The Secret
by Gemmi92
Summary: Mahone wasn't alone on the night that he dealt with Oscar Shales. Clara Reynolds had been by his side and helped him cover his tracks. A year after that night and with the Fox River Eight on the run, Mahone is forced not only to protect his family, but the woman he hoped never to see again. Mahone/OC
1. Chapter 1

She couldn't pinpoint how long it had been since she had laid eyes on him. After that day they had agreed to go their separate ways. She had gone back to college and completed her PhD, finally becoming a lecturer like she had always wanted. She assumed that he had gone back to the bureau, sensing that he always thought that he had the potential to climb high.

It wasn't until she saw him on the news did it bring it all back. Looking to the screen of her laptop, she placed her pen down from the essays she had been marking. Her eyes narrowed into thin slits and she stared as he addressed the press. Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes and pictured what they had done.

Opening her eyes abruptly, she took a deep breath and moved to rest her elbows on her desk, burying her head into her hands. She let her breathing calm down before she dared to move, her hand going to the track pad of the laptop, as she looked deeper into the news story. She knew it had been about the missing convicts from Fox River. She had seen that much.

She continued her searching before she found a location and she knew what she had to do. They might have made a pact that day, but there was only him she could talk to. There was only him who might understand what she was going through.

…

Sitting in the corner of the busy open planned office located in Chicago, she looked around. Everywhere she turned there were agents running around, agents sitting at their desks and tapping away furiously at computers. She had peered into the corner; the sight of the convicts faces on a board enough to make her shudder with worry for a brief moment. She knew the chance of crossing paths with them was unlikely. She had no doubt that they would be miles away by now, doing all they could to hide and lay low.

An Agent Lang had admitted her into the room after she had told her that she had urgent business. No doubt the Agent had just assumed it was related to the Fox River 8. She had told her to sit tight until her boss returned. The woman had been harsh and determined, her voice suggesting that she should not challenge her. She had been happy to do that, but now she was on tenterhooks.

Leaning over herself, her hands found her hair and pushed her fingers through it, feeling herself shaking as she completed the motion. Closing her eyes, she imagined what he would say when he saw her. Would he recognise her? It had been a while since they had laid eyes on each other. It had to have been a year. Had he completely forgotten about what they had done? Would he tell her to leave without a second thought?

She knew that she would soon have her answer. Looking up at the sound of his snapping voice, she saw him enter the office, agents flocking around him to update him on the latest information. It gave her a moment to take in his features, seeing how he had changed. She couldn't deny that he looked a little gaunter, his cheeks hollow. His eyes were still that piercing blue colour. Those eyes that had stared at her until she had agreed that he knew best. He was dressed in an impeccably smart black suit, his hands creasing it slightly as they rested on his hips.

He dismissed each agent one by one until he came to Lang. Listening to her, he bent down to put his ear closer to her mouth. She made gestures with her hands, waving manically before he frowned and his eyes finally settled on her as they turned to the row of seats. She stood up instinctively, her bag falling down from her shoulder to the crook of her arm as she held her jacket over her arm.

She didn't know what he was thinking as he sniffed once, his hand moving under his nose before he marched over to her, his eyes on the floor and she knew that she had made a mistake. She should have stayed away. But it was too late to back out now. She remained stood where she was, her head held high as he stood before her, still not looking her in the eye.

"What are you doing here?" his voice was terse and she tried to hold herself high.

"I need…I…" she stammered, not entirely sure how to answer him.

Finally he looked her in the eye and she did her best not to crumble and flee. She needed to discuss this with him. He sighed and shook his head, clearly agitated as he held an arm out, motioning for her to walk forwards. She moved, him only one step behind her as she came to the end of the row of desks and saw a door with his name on it. He moved in front of her there, pushing the door open wide and letting her in first.

She stepped into the small space as he shut the door and observed the office for a final time, knowing that they were watching him.

"You shouldn't be here," he was back to his terse tone as he sat himself down at his desk, his hands resting on the desk as she sat in the chair opposite him, dropping her bag on the floor. "We agreed not to have contact-"

"-I know what we agreed," she interrupted him. "But it's…what we did-"

"-Do you regret it?" he demanded from her and she shook her head in an instant.

"Never," she said. "After what he did, he deserved it. I have no regrets about that, but we hid it. We covered it up and that…I live every day worrying that someone will find out and that will be it. We should have come clean the day it happened. They would have believed us."

"How?" he demanded from her. "I was tasked with capturing him and I killed him when I had other options…just…everything he had done."

"I know," she whispered, letting her eyes fall to the ground.

"I promised you that no one would find him," he said, this time his tone was slightly softer.

"That doesn't help me sleep," she responded. "I promised you I would never tell anyone-"

"-His blood is better on my hands than on yours," he muttered before she could finish, his head shaking back and forth as he moved to run his hands through his short hair, causing it to stick out at weird angles before he let his eyes meet hers. "I would have done it regardless of you finding him first. He deserved his death."

"I know," she promised him. "But how can you not be worried that someone will find out?"

He chuckled then, a different reaction to the one she had been expecting from him as he leant back in his chair and his eyes rolled to the ceiling. She had no idea and it was best for it to stay that way. He would send her on her way back to the college she taught at. He would tell her there was nothing to worry about. He would make sure she never had to think about this again.

"I have it covered," he said, his voice low and slightly shaky. "You don't need to worry about him. He's dead and buried."

"Christ," she whispered, bending down once more as a feeling of nausea swept over her and he watched her for a moment before standing up, moving around his desk to let the back of his legs rest against it as he stood before her. "He murdered Theresa. The things he did to my sister…"

Gulping, he tried to push the images of that case to the side as he listened to her.

"I should have no guilt at what we did," she continued. "I did it for her…I would have done it for her…"

"That's the problem with guilt," he informed her. "It has a funny way of raising its head."

"Do you not feel anything?" she whispered, tossing her hair behind her shoulders as she sat up and looked to him. "Is it only me who feels like this?"

"No," he answered honestly. "But I won't let him get in the way of my life. I can't let him. Neither can you, Clara."

"But he does," she responded, looking up at him. "I can't help but think that this feeling would go away if we just told the truth…if we just-"

"-Are you crazy?" he demanded from her. "Do you know how long we could face in jail if we told them we covered up a murder, despite the fact the man we murdered was a killer and a rapist?"

She went quiet and he saw her purse her lips together as he shook his head back and forth. Folding his arms over his chest, he let her move to her feet, seemingly shaky as she placed her mac back onto her body, pulling her long black hair from out underneath the collar.

"He's not worth jail time," he promised her. "Just think of Theresa. Think of what he did to her."

"I do," she responded, her voice harsh and short as she looked him dead in the eye. "She is all I think of, every single day. I…my little sister…"

He could see her eyes begin to water and he moved his hand into his suit jacket pocket, pulling out a handkerchief and handing it to her. She took hold of it, balling it into her fist as she dabbed her eyes and he dared to move a hand to her coat clad arm, his hand resting there gently.

"Shales got what was coming to him," he promised her. "And if anyone ever discovers him then it will be my problem."

"But I was there. I should look over my shoulder just like you do."

Shaking his head, he dropped his hand from her arm. "Clara, there would be no point in both of us suffering for his death, if it comes to it. I doubt it will…but we can never be too sure."

Clara took a sharp breath and looked to the handkerchief. "Who carries handkerchiefs round anymore?" she wondered, changing the topic for a breath moment as a small smile took over his face.

"Just call me old fashioned," he said. "And keep it. I have plenty more."

"Thanks," she mumbled, sensing that they were coming to an end of the conversation as she stuffed the cotton material into her pocket. "Anyway, I should go…I…I don't know why I came here after we agreed not to meet ever again. I just saw you on the news and I…well…it hit me harder than before."

"Don't worry about it," he shrugged. "I doubt anyone would recognise you and if they do then I'll make up a story."

"Thanks," she said again. "I'm sorry…again…I guess you have bigger things to worry about than my concerns."

He didn't want to snap at her and tell her that he did. He didn't have it in him to do that. He still remembered the day he had first seen Clara. She had come into the bureau's office, sobbing uncontrollably before flying into a fit of rage. Since then he had kept tabs of her until that fateful night.

"Just try to forget him, Clara," he spoke again.

She scoffed. "Easier said than done."

Walking to the door, he pulled it open, watching as Clara moved towards it. She looked slimmer than the previous time he had seen her, no doubt due to a sudden lack of appetite that he knew all too well. Her hair was longer down her back, more messy as it hung limply. Her face was pale, her green eyes obscured with thanks to the bags under her eye.

He let her exit first and she walked between the desks once more. He led her out of the building, down the steps and into the open car park. She pulled her car keys from her bag, unlocking a small, silver car.

"Just promise me that you won't let this ruin your life," he demanded from her. "What we went through…look…I know we won't forget it, but we can't let it define us."

"I know," she sighed. "And I'll try not to let it. Look, I'm sorry for wasting your time, Alex. I know you have bigger things to deal with."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "I take it you've heard about the escaped convicts then?"

That caused a laugh from her and she threw her head back slightly and nodded, clearing her throat. "Yeah," she said. "I think everyone who owns a TV set has heard of that. You coping okay with them?"

"I've just gotten started, but I don't think it will be long before I have them all rounded up," he assured her and she nodded her head slowly. "Anyway, that's my problem, not yours."

"I guess so," she said. "I should let you get back to it, anyway."

It was as she reached to open the door of the car did he notice. He looked to her finger and he couldn't help himself from speaking out loud, unsure of what he was doing as he watched her lift her hand up to pull her bag from her shoulder and then toss it onto the floor behind the driver's seat.

"You're not wearing your engagement ring."

Clara startled for a moment before feeling the need to hide her hand behind her back as she shrugged and bit down on her lip. "Tom broke it off," she whispered as Alex nodded and she shrugged. "He thought that I had changed…I guess these things happen for a reason. Anyway, he moved away to Florida and I stayed in Chicago."

"I'm sorry," he said, and he genuinely was. He knew how it felt to lose those who you held close. He didn't mention her name because he couldn't.

Clara didn't know what to say. All she could do was nod once at him and then climb into her car. Alex stepped back then, watching as she closed the door to her car and he saw her fasten her belt over her body before slipping the key into the ignition. Moving a hand to his cheek, his fingers ran down his cheek to hold his chin as he shook his head.

Watching her go, he heard his phone begin to ring in his pocket. Pulling it out, he pressed it to his ear as he noted Clara move a hand to rub her eyes and he suspected she had started crying once more.

"Mahone," he answered.

"You didn't tell us you had a partner in crime."

Mahone turned on the spot, looking around for any sign of the person on the other end of the phone. His grip on the device increased, his teeth grinding together.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he denied.

"We bugged your office, Alex," the voice on the other end spoke. "Did you think we wouldn't keep tabs on you?"

"You bastards," Alex snarled. "What gives you a right-"

"-You work for us, Alex," the man reminded him, his voice harsh and threatening. "We can do as we please. Now, is Clara Reynolds going to be an issue? You see, we're offering to protect your secret…not hers."

"She has nothing to do with this," Alex declared. "Just leave her alone. You have me doing your dirty work. You don't need her. She offers no value…just some scared lecturer who was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"We'll see."

The call ended quickly and Alex peered down to the blank screen before shaking his head and pocketing his phone in exchange for his pen. Pulling out the little pill, he swallowed it whole and tossed his head back, wondering when this nightmare would end.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think. My first ever Prison Break story but Mahone has to be one of the best characters!


	2. Chapter 2

Settling down on the sofa, Clara leant forwards towards the coffee table, plucking up the wine glass and holding it in her fingertips. She settled her eyes on the TV screen, watching some reality show she had no interest in. She had gone back to work after going to meet Alex. She'd lectured for a couple of hours in the afternoon on the ethics of investigative journalism before gathering her things and returning home.

She'd managed to cook some pasta in a tomato sauce before settling in for the evening, thankful that she had the following day away from lecturing. She pushed a hand through her hair and closed her eyes, wondering if it would ever end. Would the feeling of worry ever leave her or did she deserve to feel this way forever? Shaking her head, she tried not to think about it too much, instead choosing to sip her wine and watch the TV.

She didn't know how long had gone by before she heard a knock on the door. It was still quite light outside, the sun slowly setting in the distance. Standing up, she put the wine down and pulled her dress down her body from where it had ridden up, the blue material clinging to her figure.

Pushing the screen door open, Clara had to admit her surprise at the sight of Alex stood on her porch. His sunglasses were covering his eyes and his hands were shaking. Pulling the door open, Clara was about to open her mouth before she felt his hand clamp down on her mouth, stopping her from speaking. Fear rose in her body as his hand wrapped around her wrist and he pulled her outside.

"Alex…what the-" she managed to snap some words out as she pushed his hand from her mouth, but he pressed a finger to his lips as he kept his fingers wrapped around her wrist, dragging her down the steps of her porch and towards a black SUV.

"Get in," Alex demanded from her, holding the passenger door open and she had no other option but to agree as he slammed the door shut on her and rushed to the driver's side.

"Do you mind telling me what the hell is going on?" Clara demanded from him as she turned in her seat and he started the car, pressing his foot to the gas as the vehicle moved with haste away from her house. "Alex!"

"It's a long story," Alex told her. "I just need you to keep quiet and do as I say…just do as I say and it will all be fine."

"I don't understand-"

"-Didn't I just tell you to keep quiet?" he snarled at her and she bit down on her tongue as he pulled his sunglasses from his eyes, tossing them into the backseat before pinching the bridge of his nose.

Clara did keep silent then, huffing loudly before turning to look out the window. Shaking her head, she slowly began to imagine scenarios in her mind, but she only came up with one. She could only think of one thing.

"Who knows, Alex?" she asked him, turning to look at him, but he had his eyes focused on the road ahead, clearly having no interest in answering her. But she wasn't about to give up. She bit down on her lip and shook her head slowly before moving to hit him across the arm, grabbing his attention then. "I said: who knows?"

"People you don't want to know," Alex responded.

"The police?"

"Worse."

She laughed then, the sound a solitary shriek as she rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Who the hell is worse than the police? Why don't you just pull over and explain all of this? You cannot come to my house and…what…kidnap me?"

Alex shook his head slowly, but he did as she had said, pulling over in the middle of the residential area she lived in. He moved his head, pressing his forehead against the steering wheel as he kept a tight grip of it, wondering why he was doing this. He could just let them kill her. They told him that it would just be his secret then. He wouldn't have the threat of someone going to the press about him and what he had done. There would be no threat.

"This is serious, Clara," Alex informed her.

"I can tell," she said. "I haven't seen you since that night and now I see you twice in a day. Do you care to explain why?"

"I can't tell you," Alex whispered. That much was true. He couldn't tell her what he had been tasked with. If he told her then they would certainly kill her. They would consider her even more of a liability.

"Are you kidding me?" Clara demanded, but this time there was no hint of lightness to her tone. She was harsh. "Take me back home now. Take me back home and forget-"

"-Forget?" he asked her, gasping out the word with a dry smirk. "Forget…yes…wouldn't that be nice."

Clara had no idea what more to say to him as he began to let his fists pound against the steering wheel. The motions were harsh and erratic; enough to make Clara recoil in her seat at the sight of him lose control, his fists pounding relentlessly against the wheel. Placing her hands to her mouth, Clara wanted nothing more than to get out the car.

Her hands frantically moved to grip hold of the handle, pushing the door open until she stumbled out. She didn't care that she wore no shoes as her feet hit the tarmac. She moved with haste, sensing that something was wrong. Something was gravely wrong. She wanted to get away from Alex.

But she should have known he was quick. He was on her heels in a matter of moments, which was even easier for him considering her lack of shoes. She started to scream as she felt his arm grip around her waist, pulling her back flush against his chest as his other hand went to cover her mouth once more. She tried to scream over it, but it was impossible.

Dragging her backwards, Alex was shocked at the amount of strength inside of her as he finally got her back to the car, pushing her against the vehicle and winding her slightly with the force as he moved his hands to her cheeks, bending down to look her in the eye.

"Listen to me," he whispered, his voice soft and desperate as she gasped for breath. "Clara, I need you to listen to me…please…"

"You're scaring me," she admitted and he saw the fear in her eyes as he dropped his hands from her cheeks, keeping them either side of her and flat against the car as he bowed his head.

"I don't want to," Alex informed her. "You need to believe me, okay? Yes…there are some people who know what we have done…but they…they're not the police."

"Then who are they?" Clara asked of him and he looked around, making sure no one was watching. He didn't know what to tell her. The truth was impossible.

"People you don't want to be involved with."

"Cut the crap, Alex," she hissed, her voice demanding as she looked at him and he watched her back. "Either tell me the truth or I'm going to call the police myself."

Alex chuckled then. "That would do nothing," he said, his voice back to its serious tone. "Listen to me, Clara, these people don't care about the police. Shales…he…there were other people looking for him…people he owed money to."

Frowning, Clara rolled her eyes, clearly not taking this seriously as Alex continued to lie to her. "Is that it? And how did they find out what we did?"

"Not what we did," Alex said with a shake of his head. "They suspect it was just you. They've been doing some digging…watching me…and then today you came to my office. It looks suspicious and these people don't like suspicion."

The disbelief on her face fell slightly. "Then why can I not go to the police?"

"Because you have no evidence…the police cannot protect you."

"And this money he owed?"

"Helped him change his identity and keep moving," Mahone told her, worrying about how easy he was lying to her as she stood still and looked around, wondering what the hell had just happened. Knowing he had to convince her further, he moved his hand to her chin, lifting her gaze back to his. "Why did you think I came for you?"

"No idea," Clara said. "It seems to me like you have lost the plot a bit."

"Yeah…well hiding a man in your back yard can do that to you," he admitted and Clara looked pitifully to him as he motioned to the car once again. "Listen, just get in the car and I'll get you somewhere safe. I'm an agent with the FBI, Clara. I can protect you until this goes away."

"But should we not tell the police too?"

"And have them look into the case again?" Alex asked. "No…I can handle this…I just need you to trust me."

"Alex," Clara complained, looking away again.

Shaking his head, he didn't give her a chance to air her concerns. "Clara, come on, you've said it yourself, we're in this together. If there's anyone who is going to come after you then I can deal with them. I just need to get you somewhere safe."

"And where would that be?"

"I haven't worked it out yet," he admitted. "Look, this all happened quickly."

"I'll say," Clara scoffed. "And how do you know about these people?"

"I spotted them in the parking lot earlier and had one of my agents trace them back to Shales," he said, not stuttering once as Clara closed her eyes, her head leaning back and hitting the car as she peered to the sky, the sun now having disappeared and leaving them in darkness.

"I'd prefer to go to the police."

"I know," Alex told her.

Murmuring an expletive under her breath, Clara nodded her head and shrugged her shoulders.

"So how do we deal with these people while covering our backs?" she asked from him. "Besides, if they're just after me then won't it look suspicious if they find out about you?"

"Not really," Alex responded. "I was the agent on the case. If I suspect something is wrong then it makes sense for me to be involved. Just trust me, Clara."

"You've been saying that a lot recently," she muttered and Mahone motioned to the open car door for her.

"And have I ever been wrong?" he asked of her.

He had his answer when she climbed into the vehicle and he shut the door behind her.

…

"How long do you intend to keep me locked away for? I do have a job and things that need to be done," Clara was continuously complaining as Mahone drove them through the streets of Chicago, constantly on the lookout as he listened to the woman besides him.

"I will take you to the college in the morning and then pick you up in the evening," he grunted and Clara shook her head.

"I don't get it," she informed him. "Why do you care so much? It's not like we were ever best friends after what happened. We agreed to part ways, so if anything did happen to me then-"

"-Because, contrary to what most people believe, I'm not entirely a cold-hearted bastard," he interrupted, tired with listening to her and wondering if it would be easier for them to finish her off and get her away from him and out of the picture.

He had agreed to kill those men on the run. He had agreed to do that without a second thought to protect his back. What should stop him from shooting the woman next to him and eliminating another problem? She had no family left. She had no one who would question her death. It would be too easy.

But every time his mind wandered to that scenario, he remembered. He remembered her walking into his office. He remembered the look of despair on her face. He had told plenty of people that their families had been murdered. It was the unfortunate nature of being part of the FBI. He knew that. But there had been no one like Shales. The things he had done to Theresa Reynolds were despicable.

And then he would remember the night when he found Clara. He remembered the sight of her with the gun, her body trembling and eyes full of despair. He remembered the sight of her as she yelled at Shales and he laughed in her face as Alex tried to calm her. Shales thought he could get away again, but Alex was never going to let that happen.

"I know," Clara whispered, looking down to her lap as her hands entwined together. "I remember…well…let's just say you made me feel slightly better when I found about Theresa…that I could trust you when you said you wouldn't stop until you had him."

Alex grunted something back and went silent, letting the hum of the engine echo through the large SUV he had borrowed from the office. He had contemplated where to take Clara, knowing full well that his house was off limits. She would have a fit sleeping so close to where his body was buried. He struggled and he considered himself to be stronger.

"I've booked us into a hotel for a while," he spoke. "Separate rooms but adjoining…just in case."

"And have you told your wife you're going away?"

There was an uncomfortable silence then as Clara watched him focus harder on the road, his breathing slightly heavier and his nostrils flaring slightly. Nodding in understanding, Clara released a bitter chuckle as she looked out the window.

"Got it," she said, knowing nothing more needed to be said. "So he did ruin us both."

"I'm trying to make it better," Alex simply offered her.

"Then keep trying," she urged him, but she didn't sound too convinced that he should.

There was silence between both of them as Alex continued down the streets before parking outside a swanky looking hotel that towered into the sky. He climbed out first, followed by Clara who picked her holdall from the foot well. Alex grabbed hold of some brown folders from the backseat and tucked them neatly underneath his arm alongside a fresh suit in a zipped up bag that he tossed over his shoulder.

He checked them in while Clara looked around the large lobby with its marble floors and plush leather sofas. There was some form of water feature against one wall that then led into the restaurant. Clara was about to wander off when she heard Alex speak from behind her shoulder.

"Here's your key."

She took the key card from him, balancing the holdall on her shoulder as she followed him towards the elevator, stepping into it besides him. They were both quiet and Clara rested against the wall of the elevator, Alex raising his brows at the sight of her.

"You okay?" he asked and she shot him a condescending stare and he went back to looking at the doors in front of him, nodding as he did so. "Being hunted down by people who want you dead…so maybe not…got it."

"In one," she clarified as the doors opened and they were greeted with a corridor of plush red carpet.

"They said that breakfast is included if you get hungry in the morning," Alex told her as they came to the first door that happened to be hers.

"I doubt I'll be eating," she scoffed, "but thanks anyway…so…I'll see you in the morning then?"

"Yeah," Alex nodded, moving off to the next door and slipping into the room without another word.

He closed the door and looked around the room, tossing his suit on the bed along with the folders. He looked to the dark oak door on the wall opposite his bed that led to Clara's room. He heard her shuffling around in there, no doubt unpacking and preparing for bed. Alex knew there was no point in trying to get any sleep. He doubted it would help.

He grabbed hold of the folders and took a seat at the desk underneath the window, closing the curtains as he did so. Slipping his hand into his suit pocket, he pulled out his glasses and picked up the photos of Scofield's tattoos, examining them and trying to decode them.

After half an hour, he felt the familiar buzzing of his phone in his pocket. Groaning to himself, he picked it up and opened it, pressing it to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"You've taken her into hiding, Alex? Really? Did you not trust us?"

Alex stood up and moved into the en-suite, not wanting Clara to have any chance of eavesdropping from the next room. He shut the door and took a seat on the edge of the bathtub.

"I couldn't trust you after what you said," Alex declared. "It's just me you want to blackmail. She would never have gone and blabbed about what happened…I'd still be your pawn."

"You almost make me feel sorry for you."

"I don't want your pity," Alex sniped. "I want my life back again."

"And you can have it," he was promised and he looked to the ceiling in despair. "But she could be a threat…it doesn't matter how much of a threat…but she is still a threat. We don't like threats."

"She's no threat," Alex spoke. "If she was going to blab then don't you think she would have done that already? Besides, why would she incriminate herself?"

"You know how normal people can be, Alex, they get that feeling of guilt. Odd that, isn't it? And from what we heard of her in your office, she has those exact feelings."

"Weird," Alex said, his voice dry. "How dare someone feel any guilt for their actions?"

"You're sounding tense."

"Only because you keep forcing these problems onto me!" Alex snapped, standing up and tugging a hand through his hair. "Listen to me, leave her be and I will do what you want."

"And why are you protecting her? Why is she so special? We know your record, Alex. You've killed before."

"She's not special," Alex said. "But she got wrapped up in my mess and I'm not going to see her suffer for that…not for Shales…so just promise me that you will leave her be and I can forget she exists and do what you want."

"And how long do you think you can protect her for if we don't agree?"

"As long as necessary," Alex responded. "I'm serious about this. Just leave her be."

"I'll see what the consensus is."

The line went dead then and Mahone slammed his phone against the sink, his hands clenched around the sides of the sink and he lowered his head, his mind a whirl as he moved a shaking hand into his pocket, pulling a pill out from the pen he hid them in. He swallowed it without the need of water and shook his head. Depositing his phone back in his pocket, he splashed his face with cold water and left the bathroom.

Sitting back at the desk, he loosened his tie and picked his glasses up, sniffing loudly once before peering back to the photos. Throughout his fourteen years with the bureau, he had never experienced anything like this. He had never felt so helpless in all of his time. He didn't know what was so important with the Fox River Eight, but he knew that they were not worth his life or his family.

Alex didn't know how long he had been working for until he heard the scream. Pushing himself from his desk and knocking his chair over, his hand automatically reached for his gun, pulling it from its cradle against his side. He pushed the door to Clara's room open, his eyes momentarily put off due to the darkness. Moving into the room, he focused for a moment, but he soon lowered his gun when he heard the scream again. She was in the bed. She was sleeping, clearly not soundly. Alex pushed his gun away and moved towards the bed, hands on his hips as he searched for the bedside light. He illuminated the room with a dim glow, looking down to Clara as she continued to sweat, tossing and turning in the thick white duvet.

Moving a hand outwards, his fingers wrapped around her shoulder and he shook her harshly as she continued to mutter incomprehensible words. Saying nothing, Alex simply continued to shake her until her eyes fluttered open and she gasped for a deep breath. His hand retracted to his side and he took a step back.

"You'd have attracted attention if you kept on screaming," Alex grunted and Clara moved a hand to her forehead, pushing the sweat from it.

Alex watched as she sat up, still in a haze as she calmed her breathing and rolled up the sleeves to the black pyjamas she wore. She closed her eyes for a second, her hands covering her mouth as a shaky breath escaped her. Alex was about to turn and leave her be, but she spoke before he had a chance to go.

"I don't usually get the nightmares this bad," Clara muttered and swung her legs over the bed, her feet hitting the plush floor as she wandered into the bathroom, her long silk pyjamas slightly askew on her body as she went.

"Yeah," Alex spoke. "I guess it's all come back to the surface."

"Tom wondered what the hell was happening for the first few weeks," Clara said, continuing to babble as she stood in the bathroom, running cold water and rinsing her face off. "I'd wake up every night screaming and crying. He thought it was because of Theresa…said he understood…said they would pass with time. They never did. I ended up going onto sleeping tablets…still have them."

Alex looked around the room, noticing the tablets sat on the desk as Clara came back out and peered to them, her eyes set on them as she felt herself well with sorrow, but not for herself. It was sorrow for what she had lost. She had pushed Tom away. She had not protected her sister.

"I used to think about overdosing," Clara admitted, meeting Alex's stare as he watched her, his face stoic and showing no emotion. "When Tom told me he was going…I thought about taking the whole bottle."

"What stopped you?" Alex wondered.

"I don't know," Clara replied. "I wanted to do it…but I guess I was too scared to go through with it. I ended up going to see…well…a professional."

"A psychiatrist?"

"Yeah," Clara said, perching at the end of the bed, pulling her legs up to her chin as Alex remained stood up. "But I was doing fine…well…I was coping. It's easier if you just work, isn't it? If you do something to take your mind off of things."

Chuckling, Alex moved his hand to the back of his neck, scratching it as he nodded in agreement with her. He took another deep breath before his hands fell to his hips and he spoke in a low voice.

"All I did was work," Alex told her. "After what happened…pushing Pam away…you're right about that."

"Sorry," Clara mumbled. "I didn't mean to go on about my problems. You have them of your own."

"Yeah," Alex scoffed. If only she knew the half of it. He motioned back to his room with his head. "And there's one big problem in there involving some convicts that I need to work on."

"What are you trying to discover?" Clara wondered from him. "I heard about each of them in turn…but that Scofield…those tattoos seem pretty intense. Is it true he had them done before he was sent to jail?"

"True," Mahone said, not bothering to hide it from her. "And you would be right about him. I think those tattoos are clues to something."

"Any idea what?"

"Not yet," Mahone admitted to her. "Well, I mean I had a breakthrough today before I met you, but I'm still trying to crack the others."

"Fascinating," Clara said, but she didn't say it with any sarcasm. She sounded genuinely intrigued by what she was hearing. "So…how does it work then? I mean…are they codes to something."

"I shouldn't really discuss this," Alex told her and she nodded.

"Got it," she said. "Don't worry about it."

"I should get back though…look…if you try to sleep again-"

"-That won't happen," she promised him, picking up the alarm clock on the side and reading the time. It was two a.m. "I'd rather just stay awake now. I have some papers I could mark anyway."

"Right," Alex said. "Well…I mean I can always leave that door open if it would make you feel any better?"

"Maybe," she weakly agreed with a nod. "Thanks, Alex."

"Don't mention it," he shrugged, indeed hoping that she would not mention it.

Slipping out of her room, he settled himself back at the desk, listening to Clara's ruffling of papers as she pulled them from her holdall. Judging from the sound of a creaking mattress, she had settled herself on the bed and was marking them there. He picked up the photo he had been observing, wondering what would have happened if he had not found out about the cemetery.

Would he have known that the tattoos were clues? He didn't know. Instead he studied them with intrigue. He would go and speak to Lincoln's son tomorrow, hoping that the kid would be scared enough to give up any information he knew. Of course, he might not know anything and that would be useless. Nevertheless, Mahone could be persuasive in a nice or nasty way. It depended on how the kid wanted the conversation to go.

"Hey."

Snapping away from his thoughts, Mahone looked to the door where Clara was stood, a paper held in her fingertips as she had a pen in her other hand. She wore thick rimmed glasses on her face and Mahone wondered if she had always needed them. He had never seen her wearing glasses before. Peeling his from his eyes, he held them in his hand as she spoke.

"Do you have a blue pen? I think I left mine on my desk."

"Blue?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "I hate marking in red. It feels too harsh…don't know why."

"I only have black," Mahone responded.

"No problems," Clara said. "I'll just write in a different manner…maybe all capitals…or that might be too shouty."

"Does the paper warrant all capitals?"

"Oh yeah," Clara chuckled. "Trying to teach some of these kids the ethics of journalism can be difficult. Some of them have no morals."

A small smile pulled his lips upwards and Clara went back into her room, Mahone watched her go as she disappeared from his sight and he went back to his own work. He didn't know about her students having no morals. He was pretty low on those himself recently.

...

A/N: So I have no idea if anyone is reading this but if you are then a little comment would be lovely! Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

Clara had somehow managed to fall asleep while marking papers. It had only been an hour, but she felt even more tired when she woke up again at seven a.m. The door to the bedrooms was still wide open and she wondered what Alex was doing. She didn't bother to go in and ask what was going on. Instead she went into the bathroom and turned the shower on, letting the water get warm before she stepped into it.

Moving to shut the door, Clara began to pull her pyjamas from her body, folding them neatly and placing them to the side. She moved into the shower, stepping underneath the water as it washed over her. Placing both hands on the wall, she bowed her head, the feeling of its warmth dripping down her face enough to make her remember how it had felt when the water had washed the blood off of her.

" _You need to get in the shower," he whispered into her ear, trying to draw her out of her daze. "You need to get rid of the evidence."_

Her eyes opened wide as her hands pushed through her hair, slicking it back from her head. Reaching for the shampoo, she began to rinse it through her hair before doing the same with the conditioner. She quickly washed herself before turning the shower off and reaching for the towel.

She wrapped it around her body before leaving the steamed up bathroom, going to her holdall and searching for some clothes. She grabbed hold of her skater black dress, slipping into it before she dragged a towel through her hair. Looking through the room, she found a hairdryer in the drawer by the dressing table, pulling it out and plugging it in.

"Clara."

His voice entered her ears before she could turn the device on. She sat on the stool at the table, her legs folded over each other. Turning her head over her shoulder, she saw Mahone enter, dressed in exactly the same suit he had been wearing the day before. His hair was still messily ruffled and his glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

"I brought you a coffee," he spoke, indeed motioning to a cup in his fingertips. "There's breakfast downstairs but I didn't know if you would want anything."

"I'm fine, thanks," Clara informed him, taking hold of the coffee from his fingertips.

Holding it in her hands, she sipped on it. It was already lukewarm.

"I know we have coffee in the room…but I kind of drank all mine last night," Alex told her. "I came to borrow some of yours but you were asleep so I just took it. I didn't want to wake you."

"Yeah, I just fell asleep," she said. "I don't know…it must have been a very boring essay I had been marking."

Alex chuckled at that and looked to the papers on her bed. He moved slowly towards them as she spun around on the stool to watch him. His hand hovered over some of them as he nodded down to one.

"Mind if I take a look."

"Knock yourself out," Clara shrugged and he picked one up, holding it in his fingertips and skimming it quickly.

His eyes narrowed as he used one finger to push his glasses onto his nose. She said nothing as she watched him read the paper intently before tossing it down onto the bed again, nodding once.

"Makes me glad I never went to college," he said.

"You never went to college?" she asked, her eyes widening as Mahone shook his head and she took a sip on her coffee. She looked at him over the rim of her mug before standing up and moving to the papers, her wet hair hanging down her back. "I thought that…with you being an FBI agent you might have needed to have gone to college."

"No," he said. "I was in the military for a while before joining Special Ops."

"And then you went into the FBI?" she asked of him and he nodded his head to her.

"That's about it," he said. "I guess I dropped lucky. All the kids coming up through the ranks have got college degrees galore, but it doesn't help them when it comes to the practicalities of the job…most of them couldn't find the obvious if it hit them in the face."

"I guess it must take time," Clara said, tidying her papers once she had finished a gulp of the coffee and placed the mug on the bedside table. "I mean, you can have degrees but it doesn't make you any cleverer…doesn't stop you from missing things you should never have missed."

Alex knew what tone she was using. He had heard it himself multiple times. Saying nothing, he watched her for a second before she perched on the end of the bed, letting the papers rest in her lap. Alex remained stood for a moment before she spoke.

"I should have known," she told him, looking up to him. "Theresa said she thought she was being followed. I told her she was being foolish…that she was imagining things…I mean, she lived in Chicago. There's hundreds of people walking behind her every day on the way to work."

"You could never have known what could have happened," Alex informed her. "Clara, even I could not have imagined what he would have done to your sister. He was a monster…and I have seen a lot of monsters."

"But she told me," Clara said, pointing to herself. "She told me and if I had told her to go to the police-"

"-They would not have done anything," Alex interrupted, daring to move and sit at the other end of the bed. Turning his body to the side, he watched her as she looked back to him. "Clara, the amount of people they deal with every day who claim they are being followed…stalked…I don't think it would have worked or changed anything."

Clara looked down to her lap, her fingers drumming against her thighs. "Then I should have done something…been there to stop him."

"He would have just killed you," Alex said. "Like he was going to…it was foolish of him to go after you, really."

"I was glad," Clara shrugged. "Anyway, I should finish getting ready. I have no lectures today but I have plenty of paperwork to catch up on if you want to go early?"

"Yeah," Alex nodded, standing up. "I'm heading down to the courthouse anyway. I have a meeting with Lincoln Burrow's son set up."

"The one who killed his mom and step-dad?" Clara wondered, also standing and wandering back to the dressing table with the hairdryer. "I heard his lawyers had been claiming that was a set up…just like Burrows."

"Yeah, well, they're lawyers," was the only explanation that Alex said and Clara nodded.

"True enough," she agreed with him. "I don't know. It does all seem a bit suspicious. I'm not one to believe in government conspiracy theories, but it is pretty weird. His dad always claimed he was innocent too."

"This is how they get you," Alex said. "Those lawyers can spin a story well enough. But believe me, there's no government conspiracy. I think I would know if there was."

"Yeah," she nodded. "I mean, you are the government, right?"

Alex chuckled. "Not fully," he said. "Anyway, I'll leave you to get ready. See you in a bit."

Clara watched Alex go before turning her hairdryer on and blasting it through her hair, letting her mind go and wander off onto the Fox River Eight.

…

Alex was in a foul mood as he drove back to the college campus that evening. He had slammed his hands against the wheel, cursing loudly at the fact that they had gotten away and managed to escape. He didn't think that they could get far. He had seen Lincoln get shot in the leg with a bullet. But still, they had gotten away.

Their failed attempt to rescue the LJ kid had only been foiled because Alex had the recording of LJ's conversation with his father who had posed as a lawyer. If he had not done that then he wondered if the kid would have escaped with his father. Alex had shown him no mercy, refusing to back down on the kid until he told him what he knew.

The worst part was that, deep down; Alex suspected that the kid had done nothing wrong. He suspected that he was telling the truth. But that didn't change anything. It changed nothing at all. He would still do everything in his power to protect his family, even if that meant incarcerating an innocent kid.

Turning the engine off, Mahone sat in the car and closed his eyes. He had parked outside of the Department of Journalism where Clara worked, telling her that he would be there that evening. She had agreed and slipped out the car, heading into the old fashioned building and up the steps, promising Alex she had no intention of leaving the department.

Checking his watch, he saw that it had struck six. He closed his eyes and leaned back, his head hitting the headrest behind him. He waited another ten minutes before leaving the car, locking it quickly and walking with haste to the department. There was a woman sat behind a desk in the entrance and she smiled over to Mahone as he entered.

"I'm looking for a Clara Reynolds," he informed her.

"Oh, Clara is in her office," the woman said, motioning down the corridor with doors leading off of them. A gaggle of students passed by, leaving the common room with folders in their hands. "She's with a visitor at the moment…"

"I see," Alex said.

"She shouldn't be too long," the woman said. "The building closes at six thirty so he should be gone in the next few minutes."

"I'll just wait outside then."

Alex walked back down the steps, looking around the campus. There was a green square in the centre, surrounded by buildings. There were some students lounged on the grass, their books open as they pretended to study. Alex went to the wall across from the department, leaning against it as he pulled his sunglasses from his pocket, protecting his eyes from the sun as it set behind the building he was watching.

The receptionist had been right. It was only another few moments before Clara emerged, but the man behind her was enough to make Mahone's blood run cold. He had seen him before. He had seen him and he knew exactly who he was. He was dressed in a smart suit, his hair cropped neatly on the top of his head. His eyes were gleaming as he smiled to Clara and she spoke to him about something.

Alex was about to move and demand to know what was going on, but the man placed a hand on Clara's arm and they shook hands before he turned the other way, leaving Clara to go to Alex who she had spotted by the wall.

"Katherine said someone had been asking after me," Clara told him, her satchel dangling against her hip. "Well, she said a guy in a suit had been here."

"Yeah," Mahone said. "Who was that meeting with?"

"Just some guy who was thinking about enrolling on the course. He said he works in PR but fancies a change of career…not unusual…there's a few mature students about."

"Right," Mahone said.

This was some kind of threat. He was proving that he knew. They knew where Clara worked. They were proving that he could get close to her and kill her if he needed to. Alex tried not to act too suspicious, but he was finding it difficult as his gaze lingered on the man's retreating figure. Clicking her fingers in front of his face, Clara watched as Alex's distracted gaze turned back to her.

"What?" he asked.

"You looked like you were on a different planet," she said. "Is everything okay?"

"Long day," was all he offered her. "I had Burrows and Scofield in my grasp but they got away."

"How?" Clara asked, her eyes wide as they began to walk back to the car, falling into step besides each other.

"They tried to break Burrow's son out of the courthouse by breaking into an elevator shaft. I had them, but they got away. The good thing is that I think Burrows got shot in the leg…wounded pretty badly…so they'll slip up."

"Do you think so?" Clara asked. "But what about all the others?"

"We're onto them," Alex said, not entirely sure if that was the truth. "Anyway, I need to be in first thing tomorrow. Tonight I need to keep looking into the case."

"Yeah," Clara said. "Listen, you know I have a car, right? I could always drive myself to and from work. I just feel as though you have bigger things to worry about other than ferrying me to and from work."

"Hmm," Alex said, unlocking the car as they came to it. "We'll see."

…

"You need to eat something."

Clara had been adamant that Alex pull over and pick up some food before they returned to the hotel. Alex looked over to her, his brow arching and she suspected he had a condescending stare from behind his sunglasses. She said nothing for a second as she shrugged and Alex sighed.

"Well if you don't need to eat something then I do," she told him. "I'm not exactly able to live on nothing since last night and I doubt you've eaten all day."

"I don't know if I'm hungry," Alex said.

"Well, just get something and eat it if you want, and don't bother if you don't want it," Clara shrugged. "I'm just talking about a burger, Alex. Come on."

"A burger?" Alex asked her.

"What?"

"Nothing," Alex shrugged to her. "I just never had you down for someone who ate fast food…I mean…you and your fiancé were always dining out at fancy restaurants whenever I tried to get hold of you."

Snorting, Clara dove into her satchel and pulled out her blue purse, dropping it into her lap. "Tom had expensive tastes. I did not."

"Right," Alex said. "So you want me to pull into the next fast food place we come across?"

"Yeah," Clara nodded and he rolled his eyes but agreed with her.

Pulling into the fast food joint, Alex climbed out and Clara did the same. She sniffed the smell and felt her stomach growl, wondering just how ridiculous she felt. She should not be thinking about food when she was on the run. She remained in front of Alex, pushing the door open before walking into the restaurant.

They ordered quickly and left, sitting in the car to eat instead of in the restaurant. Alex looked to the burger and Clara watched him for a moment.

"It might not look appetising, but it tastes amazing. Besides, I thought FBI agents lived off of fast food, coffee and donuts?"

"Cops have donuts," he informed her. "And I usually cook my own food, not a big lover of fast food. Coffee, on the other hand, is a necessity."

Alex took a bite of the burger as Clara ate a fry and he watched her for a moment. They ate in silence before bagging the food up. Clara hopped out the car and dropped the rubbish in the bin next to the restaurant. She jumped back into the car and they went back to the hotel, a comfortable silence between them. Alex parked the car up and climbed out of it before he spotted him.

It was the same man who had been at Clara's office earlier. Pulling his sunglasses from his eyes, he looked over to him as Clara slammed the door shut and moved around the front of the car. Her eyes looked to Alex and she followed his gaze, narrowing her eyes for a second as she wondered what he was looking at.

Alex moved quickly then, not thinking about anything other than getting away from the car park. He moved his hand to Clara's wrist, tugging her towards him and dragging her from the car park as she frowned.

"What is going on?" she asked from him. "Alex, what's gotten into you?"

"There's someone here," he whispered to her. "Someone is watching…"

"What?" Clara snapped. "Who?"

She tugged her wrist from his hand, but Alex was quick. His fingers grabbed hold of hers as he pulled her back, rushing into the hotel and towards the elevator. He moved a hand to Clara's back, pushing her forwards so that his body was covering hers from sight. His hand still held hers as she let her eyes dart around.

"Who was it?" Clara asked him. "You recognised him instantly, Alex."

"I've seen him before," Alex said. "Loitering outside the headquarters…and now he's here…"

"And you don't know who he is?"

"Funnily enough he never stays around long enough for me to ask him his name," Alex said, his tone sarcastic.

"You don't need to be an arsehole," she mumbled as the elevator came to the ground floor and Alex pushed her inside, his grip still on her hand as he pushed the buttons on the control panel. Clara said nothing as he finally dropped her hand from his, moving his fingers to work through his hair.

"This is crazy," Clara complained. "All of this is crazy."

"I know," Alex mumbled. "I know and I get that."

"Then just let me come clean!" Clara said, finally snapping as Alex shook his head. "I'll take the blame for it all…tell them you had nothing to do with it…I will leave you out of it…I just can't live like this. Going to jail has to be better than this."

"No," Alex shook his head as they came to their floor and he looked around, wondering what to say to her. "Clara…you cannot…do you understand."

He took her by the elbow, steering her to their room. He unlocked his and forced her inside, watching as she flung her satchel onto her bed and Alex locked the door, pressing his forehead against the wood as Clara folded her arms over her chest.

"I'm serious, Alex," she whispered to him, her voice low and pleading. "Just let me take the fall for it."

"That's not what they want, Clara," Alex responded, turning to look to her.

"No, what they want is the money Shales owed them, but I don't have that," she informed him. "I just don't see what they want with me…I mean…nothing suspicious has happened at work to me…nothing…there's only you who has told me about this. Why does no one else know?"

"Because no one else can now!" Alex snapped at her.

"You know what?" Clara said, moving forwards and coming face to face with him, eyeing him with content as she looked him up and down. "I think this is bullshit."

"Excuse me?" Alex demanded from her and she looked him square in the eye.

"I think something else is going on," she declared, her hands balling into fists. "I think there is something you are not telling me…Shales owed some people money? Great. They want me dead because of it? Bit far fetched."

"So you think I'm lying?" Alex wondered and she shook her head.

"I think there is something wrong," she nodded at him. "But I don't think you're telling me what it is. If it was people coming after me for Shales then I should be able to go to the cops and tell them…own up to what happened…"

"But we both know owning up would mean revealing me," Alex pointed to himself. "And that can't happen."

"I said I wouldn't-"

"-Then how would that explain the dead body in my back yard?" he snapped at her. "Just think about this, Clara. Just sit down and think about it. I have told you the truth. You know everything that I know."

"I think that's bullshit," Clara told him, searching his gaze. "And I think you know it is too. Whatever this is…you're scared of it. I know that. Christ, I can see that, Alex. Why would you be scared if someone wanted me dead?"

"Don't," Alex whispered, his voice low and dangerous as he looked at her. "Clara…don't…you don't understand."

"Then help me to understand," she pleaded with him. "Alex, help me understand what is happening."

"You can't know," Alex said. "Because if you knew then you would go…you'd go and I'd be dead…you'd be dead…this is the only way to keep you safe. After what happened…after what we went through…"

"You're scaring me, Alex," Clara said, stepping back from him. "What is wrong with you? What are you going on about?"

"I just need you to believe me."

"You keep saying that," Clara flapped her arms by her side. "I don't believe you. I hardly know you, Alex. We met…what…eight times? And one of those times was to put a man in the ground."

Alex inhaled sharply as Clara took hold of her satchel, slinging it onto her shoulder. "You might be okay living like this…living hiding away, but I cannot do it. I'm going to the police."

"They won't believe you," Alex informed her, his eyes wide as he began to sweat, tugging at his tie as he watched her. "They will believe nothing you say and cannot protect you."

"Better than being like this," Clara shrugged and tried to move past Alex, but he grabbed her by the arm, stopping her from going.

"Get off of me," she demanded from him. "I mean it, Alex. Get the hell off of me!"

"No," Alex said. "No…just listen…Clara…"

"I have and you're lying!" Clara snarled at him, trying to pull her arm from him but failing miserably. Alex grabbed hold of her other arm, moving her back into the room, his strength too much for her as he pressed her against the wall.

"Let go!" Clara yelled, her hands pushing at his chest. "Let me go!"

"I can't," Alex spoke and then he moved closer to her and she saw the look in his eye. She knew fear when she saw it and Alex's stare was full of it. Remaining still, she watched him bow his head, speaking in a mutter that she barely managed to comprehend. "I'll tell you the truth…everything…just don't do this."

Nodding, Clara agreed and Alex stood up to his full height again, steadying himself as he back away from her, letting her sag against the wall. Manoeuvring around the room, he sat on the end of the bed and watched her remain stood against the wall, peering hesitantly over to him.

"I'll tell you everything."

…

A/N: Thanks to anyone reading and do let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Clara remained stood against the wall while Alex sat on the bed. He was nervously tapping his foot against the floor, his hands resting on his thighs as he nodded to himself. He was trying to gather the courage to tell her what was happening, but he knew that once he did this then there would be no going back. And what if she decided to go to the police and tell them? What would happen then? He didn't know and he didn't want to find out.

"I'm being blackmailed," he finally admitted, flapping his hands by his side as he looked to Clara and she nodded, urging him to continue with his tale. "There are these people…way higher than me…I don't know who they are, but I…they're blackmailing me."

"Okay," Clara said, unable to believe how suspicious it sounded, but she had to believe him. She had to believe him as she looked to him and saw the fear in his gaze. "So why are they blackmailing you? Because they know about Shales?"

"They know everything about Shales," he confirmed. "They know what we did and that's why they want you dead, Clara. They want you dead so that you don't go and blab…because if you do that then they can't blackmail me anymore."

Clara moved slowly over to the bed, perching on the edge of it as Alex moved his head to look over to her. "They…"

He was struggling to speak and Clara could see just what this was doing to him. It was ruining him. She knew the signs of someone in despair. She had seen it on her face plenty of times, but Alex went to another level. He looked unhinged, everything about him seeming to be on edge.

"What they want is wrong," Alex said. "But I have to do it…they threatened Pam and Cameron. They will hurt them if I don't do it and I can't do that to Pam. I ruined my marriage and pushed her away. I destroyed everything and now I'm trying to save her."

"I get it," Clara promised him. "But what are they getting you to do, Alex?"

Moving with haste, he slid closer to her, grabbing hold of her forearms tightly. He held them in his grip and she searched his stare. His eyes seemed larger than usual and his forehead was dripping with sweat as Clara moved her own hands to his shoulders, knowing full well that she had to calm him down somehow.

"You need to promise me that what I am about to tell you will stay in this room…because if you threaten to go to the police…my son…" he choked again and Clara nodded, knowing just how important family was.

"I know," she said. "Okay, I get it. You would do anything to protect them, just as I would have done."

"Then you need to know that I don't want to do it," Alex said. "I don't want to do it, Clara."

"It's fine," she promised him and he nodded before releasing her, sitting back and looking her dead in the eye as he spoke, his voice shaky.

"They want me to kill the escaped convicts."

His words danced around in her ears as he moved to his feet, some form of panic taking over him. He didn't want to tell her and now a part of him felt even more worried after having done so. No one was supposed to know and he knew that, but he had still spoken the words. He still said them out loud and told her.

"What?" Clara whispered, her mouth dry as Alex tugged a hand through his hair. "Why the hell would anyone want you to do that?"

"I don't know," Alex admitted. "All I know is that they're called The Company and they have Pam and Cameron being watched…"

"Okay, this is even weirder than the previous tale you spun me." She spoke in a low voice before letting her eyes dart across the floor and Alex moved then, bending down in front of her. He took hold of her wrists in his grip and moved his face closer to hers.

"This is the truth," he said and she did believe him. "I am telling you the truth, Clara…and that man in the parking lot was the same one who came to visit you in your office."

"What?" she snapped then, pushing herself to her feet as Mahone also stood up straight and watched her flail her arms by her side as she glowered to him. "What the hell does he want?"

"To kill you," Alex said. "He wants to kill you, Clara and get you out of the picture before you become a threat. We neutralise threats and that is what we do."

Clara felt sick at hearing that, bending down as she let the feeling sweep over her. Alex watched her and felt some form of pity well up inside of him at what he had just told her. She was doubled over, her hands holding her thighs and bracing her as her hair fell in front of her face.

"Clara," Alex whispered her name and she shook her head, sniffing loudly and running a hand under her nose.

"No," she said. "This can't be happening."

"It is," he said.

"So what do we do?" she demanded from him. "Alex…you cannot do this."

"Did you miss out the part where I said they have my ex and kid?"

"No," she said. "But I know that there has to be someone we can go to. Look, the police could put them into protective custody, right? If we went to tell them then-"

"-They would shoot them as soon as they got wind," Alex spoke and she couldn't quite believe what was happening. "They would never let me get that far before disposing of me and you. Clara, do you think I haven't threatened them with everything I have? I have…I've thought of everything and there is nothing. There is nothing to escape from this."

His words filled her with dread and she sat back down at the seat at the desk, her arm dangling over the back of the chair as Alex sunk down on the bed, tugging his tie further down his shirt and unbuttoning his top button of the white shirt. He looked to her as she processed everything he had just said.

"Why did the man not kill me then?" she asked him.

"He's buying his time. He's the same man who keeps meeting me and demanding updates," Alex said. "I'm sorry, Clara, okay? I never meant to drag you into this, but letting him kill you…it just wasn't fair."

"It would have saved you a lot of hassle," she responded. "And…the convicts…killing them…"

"I don't relish the idea of doing it," Alex said, his brows arching. "But between them and my family?"

"Family always win," Clara confirmed and Alex glanced over to her as she peered into the distance, no doubt thinking about Theresa and what she could have done. She met Alex's eye again. "Alex, I don't get it, but I believe you, okay? I…I know you would never lie about your family being in danger. I might not know anything else about you, but I know that after what happened."

"Thank you," Alex said to her.

"But killing these convicts…"

"I know," Alex said, silently agreeing to her horror. "I know. I keep trying to find a way out, but everything I try fails miserably."

"I can tell," she said. "So what happens now? If that man is out there then how long before he comes in?"

Nodding, Alex stood up and moved with haste, motioning the door on the wall that led to her room. Pulling it open after unlocking it, he ushered her inside the room, motioning to all of her belongings she had strewn around.

"Pack it all," he told her. "I'll be back in a minute. You're right. We need to change rooms…make sure he can't find out where we are."

"On it," Clara said.

She began to grab her stuff, bagging it with haste into her holdall as Alex left the room and she continued to pack. She made sure the room was empty before waiting for Alex to return, her mind a whirl after what she had just said to him. She couldn't believe it. It all seemed so far fetched. But then a part of her knew that it was real. She could see when someone was worried.

Pulling her holdall onto her shoulder, she moved back into Alex's room and grabbed the satchel she had deposited on his bed when they had first entered the room. She went back into her room in time to see Alex open the door, slightly out of breath as he beckoned her towards him.

"The room across the hall?" she snapped at him as he put the key card into the lock and it opened.

"We're under a fake alias," Alex told her. "But this still lets me keep a lookout on the hall through the spyhole."

"And you just got one room?" she asked, seeing how there was just a double bed in the room with a sofa at the end of the bed. She dumped her stuff on that as Alex locked the door and Clara glanced to the watch on her wrist. It was now eight p.m. Eight p.m. and she was drained of energy.

"There weren't many other options," Alex told her. "But don't worry, I hardly sleep so you take the bed."

"Did you sleep last night?"

"No," Alex said, remaining stood by the door and peering through the small hole in the wood.

"Then how do you function?" she asked of him.

"Not very well," he admitted and spun to look to her as she crossed her legs beneath her, her arms resting in her lap as he saw her begin to pull at her dress, moving it and covering her legs further. "Clara, can you promise me-"

"-Promise," Clara interrupted him, nodding sternly. "I promise that I won't do anything…go to the police…I get it, Alex. If I were you and Theresa was in danger…"

"I will keep trying," Alex promised, his voice now full of determination. "I will keep trying to find a way out of this. I promise you, Clara. And…and keep you safe."

"Do you think that you can?" Clara wondered. "I mean, they can get to me at work. They've shown that. What more can I do? Where else can I hide?"

"I know," Alex spoke. "The only other option is for you to take leave from work and come with me. Come with me into the office and stay there."

"Won't that look suspicious?" she asked, scoffing. "I mean, people will talk. You know that…and what if the convicts go beyond Illinois? You'll have to leave the state. Alex, I won't go to the police, I promise you…now I know…but…but if they get me then-"

"-Stop it," he urged her. "Clara, stop it."

"No," she said, "because I can go. I can flee…get out the U.S."

"They would never let you," he replied. "Clara, I feel enough guilt over this already, okay? Just stay here…come with me…and I will do everything I can to keep you alive."

Saying nothing, Clara turned to glance out the window, wondering what the best option would be. She suspected she knew the safest option. Alex was probably right when he said that she would not survive on her own, but that didn't mean that she didn't want to try. She wanted to get out and do whatever she could on her own.

"Believe me," Alex whispered to her.

"I do," she said. "I just-"

"-There is enough blood on my hands…innocent blood…I don't want to add you to that list," Alex said, his voice honest and his tone determined.

"Okay," was all that she managed to say to him, nodding her head slowly before Alex nodded and went back to looking through the hole in the door.

Clara went about the rest of the evening in silence, using the bathroom to shower and change into her pyjamas once more, slipping them over her body and tossing her dress to the side of the room, not caring to fold it up. She was too exhausted for that. It was only nearly nine p.m. and already she could see Alex begin to sag.

He had dragged the chair from the desk to the door, holding onto the brown files he had brought up with him as he read them over. He listened intently for any noise outside as he studied the folders. Clara sat down on the sofa once more, reaching into her satchel for her cell.

"I'll text the head of department," she spoke. "I'll just say I have an emergency…involving my sister's case."

"Yeah," Alex responded in a mumble.

"So what do we do then?" she asked of him. "Because you cannot stay awake all night again. You'll either collapse or make yourself ill."

Chuckling, Alex closed a file and glanced in her direction. "I'll manage. Get some sleep, Clara."

"No," Clara said and Alex arched a brow at hearing her before he dared to move from the chair, standing up as Clara did the same, observing his face for a moment. It took a second before Clara moved with haste, slipping past Alex and settling down on the chair he had just vacated. "You're either going to collapse from exhaustion or end up sitting awake in that chair and getting insomnia."

"You do know that I am an FBI agent, Clara?" he asked of her. "This is kind of my job…staying awake and waiting to catch suspects."

"Yeah, well, my job is to lecture rowdy young adults," she replied. "That doesn't make me invincible and able to stay awake all hours of the day."

Leaning her head against the door, Clara watched him expectantly before he nodded and pushed his jacket from his shoulders, tossing it onto the desk as he noticed her discarded dress on the floor. Clara pulled her legs to her chin, curling into a ball as she remained seated.

"I'll take over in a couple of hours," Alex muttered and she saw him collapse onto the bed, resting on his side. She rolled her eyes, knowing that he would give in eventually.

He pushed his shoes from his feet, dropping them on the floor. Clara went back to looking at the door, keeping her eyes open as she heard Alex continue to breath quietly until his breaths turned to light snores and she looked back to him. So she was stuck with a snorer. Saying nothing and managing not to chuckle, Clara kept her attention on any noise coming from the corridor outside.

She checked her watch often, wondering if time had always passed by so slowly. She did her best not to look at the time, but she was so bored. She had nothing to do after finishing off her marking and lecture plans for the rest of the week. Not that she needed them now. What Alex was proposing was madness and Clara knew that. She could hardly stay by his side all of the time. It was impossible.

But then she believed him when he said that she would struggle to get away. She just didn't know what to do. She had no idea what would be the best thing to do. As her thoughts consumed her, she almost fell asleep, but then a sudden creaking noise took her off guard. Flailing in her chair, she dropped her feet to the floor before looking up, her hands resting either side of the peephole. Her eyes widened at the sight she saw.

It was the man who had been in her office that evening. Alex was right. He had slipped a key card into the door and was pushing it open wide. Shaking her head back and forth, Clara could hardly believe it. He was carrying a gun by his side. He was there to kill her.

As the door closed behind him, Clara moved with haste into the room, pushing Alex in the shoulder hastily, waking him for the sleep her had found. He looked concerned for a moment before Clara hissed to him.

"He's here…in the room…" she said before taking off back to the door.

Alex took a moment to gather himself before collecting his gun from the bedside table, holding it by his side as he moved to the door. Placing a hand to Clara's elbow, he moved her aside so that he could look through the hole in the door.

"What-"

Alex silenced her, pressing a hand over her mouth as he saw the door across the corridor open. He held his gun by his side while Clara rested her back against the door, her shoulder pressed against Alex's as he kept a hand over her mouth, watching as the suited man looked up and down the corridor before stretching his neck and walking down the corridor.

Slowly, Alex dared to move his hand from her mouth and she slumped against the wood, taking deep breaths as Alex kept his eye to the door, not entirely convinced the threat had gone.

"If he goes downstairs and checks the CCTV footage then he will know we haven't gone," Alex informed her. "We need to get out of here, Clara…now…"

"Why would he check the footage? Surely it just looks like we took off if the room is vacant?"

"I don't know," Alex said to her. "He might check it and he might not. All I know is that I would rather not take the risk. Besides, my car is still down there."

Alex placed his gun back into his holster before gathering his files and pushing his shoes back on. Clara packed her belongings once more, not bothering to fold them neatly, instead shoving them into the bag and crumpling them. It was only once she was packed did she realise she was wearing her pyjamas.

"I need to change."

"No time," Alex shook his head. "Come here."

Grabbing her holdall from her, she slipped her ankle boots onto her feet before Alex handed her the jacket that had been resting on the desk. She placed her arms into it before following Alex, picking up her satchel on the way. He opened the door and peered out, ushering her out as he kept her bag in his grip and she clung to his suit jacket.

"Down the fire escape," Alex said.

They moved down the corridor to the emergency exit, Alex opening it as the alarm sounded through the building. Clara kept up with his fast pace as he took two steps at a time, travelling down the winding staircase. Tucking her hair behind her ear so she could see her feet, Clara was more than glad to come to the exit at the bottom. Alex looked around the car park, searching for his car in the dark before finding it. Unlocking it, Alex held open the passenger door and Clara slid in, letting him chuck her bag on her lap.

He dove into the driver's side and started the ignition.

"Just get down," Alex mumbled and Clara did as instructed as he took off quickly.

She could hear the people evacuating the hotel into the car park and only once they were on the streets did Alex speak again.

"You can come up," he told her. "I didn't spot him in the crowd as we went past."

"So where do we go now?" Clara wondered. "It's midnight…we have someone who wants to kill me…Christ…"

"I don't know," Alex admitted to her. "There's only one place I can think of where security is tight enough for nothing to happen to us."

"Where?"

"Headquarters."

"Won't that be the first place they look? It is where you work after all," Clara said and Alex shrugged.

"They might look, but even in the middle of the night there are still agents around," Alex informed her. "It's not just me who pulls all night sessions."

"I'm in pyjamas," Clara complained to him and Alex looked over to her, noticing the black silk pyjamas she was still wearing underneath his jacket and he chuckled, unable to stop himself as she wondered what could be so funny.

"Well, it will certainly give the office something to talk about," he mused and Clara rolled her eyes.

"Great."

…

Alex showed Clara the direction of the bathroom and let her change. She came out in some dark blue jeans, a white blouse tucked into them. She had tied her hair back from her face, showing the gauntness of her cheeks as Alex did his best not to notice the bags under her eyes and the wrinkles on her forehead. He couldn't remember how old she was, but he wagered she was in her mid-thirties now.

"So what's the plan?" Clara asked of him, stepping into sync beside him as they walked through the familiar corridors. Alex was slightly quicker than she was, but she kept up, looking up to him as he entered the large room they used as the control centre.

"We lay low," Alex said. "We see if they make contact."

It was the middle of the night and no one was around, making it pretty easy for Alex to sneak in without having to speak to anyone. He went to his office, opening the door for Clara and letting her in. She stepped inside and dropped her bags into the corner of the room before looking around, her arms folded.

"What now?" she asked before she spotted it on his desk.

Alex wondered what she was looking at as she handed him his jacket back that she had borrowed, knowing full well what he had hidden in the inside pocket. She leant over the desk, her hands pushing at the file and Alex moved behind her, leaning his hand around hers to try and shut the folder. But Clara was quick, her hand was in his in an instant to stop him from moving.

"I read his file," Alex whispered, his mouth close to her ear as he spoke so that no one could listen to him in his bugged office. "I read his file…all those things he did…and it makes me feel better…better that he is in the ground."

Nodding, Clara released her fingers from his and let him pick the folder up, tucking it under his arm before filing it away and out of sight. Looking down to the desk, Clara took a shaky breath before peering up and looking over to where a shadow had formed on the ground. As her eyes lifted upwards, she saw him.

It was the man who had been at the hotel. The man who wanted her dead.

…

A/N: Not sure if anyone is reading this, but if you are then do just leave me a quick review, it would mean the world!


	5. Chapter 5

Clara startled at the sight of him while Alex followed her stare to the door and moved instantly, his hand reaching for his gun as his body moved to stand in front of her. Clara could peer over his shoulder as the man entered, a smirk on his face as he held his hands up before pointing down to the gun that Alex was holding.

"No need for that, Alex," he spoke with a joking laugh. "I come here in peace. You see; I hope that we can work something out…us three."

"I saw you," Clara spoke. "I saw you less than six hours ago trying to break into my hotel room and kill me."

The man sat down in the chair at Alex's desk while Alex and Clara remained stood behind the desk. She didn't dare move out from behind Alex, after all, he was the one who was holding the gun by his side. Remaining still, Clara watched the man pull his gun out and rest it on the desk before folding one leg over the other.

"Things have changed," the man said, "but firstly, let me introduce myself. My name is Paul…Paul Kellerman."

"I'd introduce myself but I get the feeling you know who I am," Clara spoke.

"Yeah," Paul chuckled. "And, I have to say, I was pretty impressed, Alex. You've hidden her very well, for what, forty-eight hours? How long are you going to keep it up for?"

"As long as I need to," Alex said and finally took a seat in his chair while Clara remained stood, preparing not to take a seat. Alex placed his gun on his desk too, lacing his fingers together as he shifted nervously in his chair, his stare not once leaving Paul. "What is this about?"

"We came to a realisation," Paul declared. "You see, killing Miss Reynolds over there would keep her quiet, but would it keep you on track? We can't have any sloppy work, Alex. You know that. So, you see, we will keep Clara alive. She can go back to her boring job and you don't need to worry about her."

"And how do I know I can trust you?" Alex enquired. "Who is to say that you won't kill her as soon as we step outside of this room?"

Paul shrugged, his hand moving into his pocket before he pulled out his phone. Clara gulped loudly as he brought something onto the screen and turned it to face them. Alex pulled his glasses from his pocket, slipping them onto his nose for a clearer view. But Clara could see perfectly. Leaning forwards over the desk, Clara felt her blood run cold at the sight she was seeing, her eyes widening.

"Just as we thought," Paul spoke. "You see, she is exactly like you, Alex…he might be her ex, but she just cannot let go."

"I let go," Clara said, trying not to think of the picture of Tom she had just seen on the cell. "I let go of him months ago, but that doesn't mean I want him dead."

"Excellent," Paul said. "Then you should know how this goes, Miss Reynolds. If we hear a whiff of you speaking what you know…whatever he has told you-"

"-She knows nothing," Alex interrupted, lying to try to cover her back. "She knows that you're blackmailing me over Shales and that is it."

"Good," Paul said. "Because if she goes to the police and tries to turn herself in then she can spend the rest of her days knowing that Tom Ballad's death is on her hands."

Clara looked away, turning her head to look into the empty office, wondering where all the agents had gone. No one was watching then. No one was there to keep them safe. Clara could feel herself begin to sweat, her hand running over her forehead before she heard Paul shuffle again, moving to his feet.

"I take it you know that going to the police will not deter us?" Paul said.

"I get the feeling I do," Clara whispered. "So what do I do? I go back to playing ignorant?"

"Exactly," Paul told her. "You go back to your normal and boring life…forget about Shales…forget about us…and everything stays normal. We'll even permit Alex to check up on you to make sure we keep our promise, but we will be watching and listening. Any whiff of you going to the police or going to speak to anyone you shouldn't and…" he trailed off, pressing two fingers to his temple and making the sound of a pop and symbol of a gun as Clara didn't know whether to scream or cry at him.

"Would it not be easier to kill me?" Clara demanded.

"Clara," Alex warned her as Paul pocketed his gun.

"Yes," Paul agreed with her, "but we need our agent here focused and killing you wouldn't do that. It would destabilise him…the woman he hid secrets for…protected…weird, Alex, you're getting soft."

"Just get out," Alex demanded.

The man did as Alex had demanded and the agent sunk back down into his chair while Clara leant against the wall, her back making contact with it as her head tilted back and she sunk down to the floor, crouching down there and unable to stop herself from wanting to be ill. As a matter of fact, she felt instantly sick.

Leaving the room, she took off through the office in the direction of the toilets, flinging the door wide open and letting it bounce off the wall as it shut again. She reached a cubicle and fell to the floor, her hands holding the bowl of a toilet as she emptied her guts, that burger she had eaten the night before not feeling like such a good idea.

"Clara!" he called her name out loud and she felt herself continue to wretch into the bowl. She said nothing as Alex heard the noise and he knew instantly what was happening. He had the same reaction when he found out.

He didn't leave the bathroom, instead he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled his pen out, swallowing his pills without a second thought. It was only when her retching stopped did he hear it. It was the next stage. Grief. He heard her loudly begin to sob and he didn't know what to do. He knew that she would want her privacy. He knew that she wouldn't want anyone to hear her, but he was not just anyone.

He was in this with her.

He stayed by the door as he heard her flush the toilet and move from the cubicle, walking to the sink and grabbing hold of it. She bent her head over it and then lost her temper. Hitting the sides of it with her fists, Alex moved with haste, knowing full well that it would be only a matter of time before she did damage with her fists.

"Clara!" he yelled her name again.

"No!" she roared. "No…this cannot be happening…none of this!" 

"Clara, you're going to injure yourself," he warned her and then moved with haste, taking hold of her by the wrists and pulling her body away from the sink as she bowed her head, tears falling down her cheek and her mouth agape as she struggled for breath.

It was like the night she had been informed of her sister's death all over again. It was like that.

"Come on, Clara," he whispered to her, loosening his grip on her wrist. "Everything will be fine. They won't touch him."

"But they know," Clara whispered, her eyes wet as she managed to look up at Alex. "They know about him…why…how? I…I just want him to be safe."

"He will be," Alex promised her. "You can go back to your life and he will be fine so long as you keep quiet. It will all be fine now. I promise you."

"How is this fine?" she demanded from him. "None of this is fine, Alex. Tom…how can I trust these people? How can I trust that they won't shoot me as soon as I leave this place? Or Tom?"

"Because they don't lie," Alex assured her. "They don't lie, Clara. They say what they mean and that is all you need to know. Just believe me."

"After you lied to me?" she asked of him.

"You know why I did that," Alex informed her. "You know I lied to you to keep you safe. I know how this feels, Clara, to have the people you love held at gunpoint because you need to do something…but all you need to do is keep quiet. You just need to keep quiet…"

"I know," she whispered, keeping her head bowed, as she was well aware that her breath probably smelt horrific. Saying nothing further, she felt Alex slowly move his hands down to wrists, holding onto her elbow instead as she sniffed loudly.

"I'll keep an eye on you," Alex promised her. "Check in to make sure everything is fine."

"You don't need to," she told him.

"I should," he said.

"You have your own family to worry about," she said. "Alex, what they are making you do…I'm sorry."

"Yeah," he said. "Not as sorry as I am."

"But I feel like it is my fault," she admitted, moving to look at her reflection in the mirror, running the cold water tap before splashing it on her face, cooling her reddening cheeks. "Because I was the one who lured Shales out. I was the one who wanted him dead."

He shook his head. "You weren't the only one who wanted him dead. I…I knew that if I caught him then I wasn't going to let him leave alive, Clara. I wanted him gone as much as you did. Well, perhaps not as much, but I did want him gone."

"I still feel guilty."

"No need," Alex told her. "Come on, I'll drive you back home. You'll be safe. I promise."

…

Clara went about her day as normal. Alex had dropped her off at her house, insisting that she should call him if anything felt off or wrong. She had agreed, but she didn't feel like it was in her place. Instead she had found herself looking at Tom's number on her cell, wondering if she should call him. She wanted to call him. She wanted to make sure that he was okay.

But she didn't. She knew he would be suspicious if she did phone him, plus people were listening. She didn't dare do it. Instead she stayed awake for the remainder of the night and took the day off of work, knowing that she would be no use to anyone. She sat in the living room, turning the TV on and watching the news. It was all about the Fox River Eight anyway. She wondered how Alex was doing with the case.

He had told her about the LJ Burrows kid yesterday, but she wondered if there had been any breakthrough since then.

Alexander Mahone. Somehow he had been dragged back into her life and she didn't really know why. She didn't understand how in two days her life had gone from normal to anything but normal. She didn't hate Alex for anything. She pitied him, really. She felt sorry for him.

There had been a time when he had been the only person she trusted. When she looked at him and told her that he would have Shales for what he did to her sister, she believed him. She knew he had been telling her the truth.

Clara went through her days unsure of what to do. She would have the occasional message from Alex, asking her if she was fine and doing well. She had said yes to each one, asking how he was doing. He responded with two letters O and K. that was it. She didn't expect to see him again, but it was five days later when he made an appearance on her doorstep.

Alex watched as she opened the door, shock on her face and he didn't know who looked worse. She had a glass of wine in her fingertips and by the looks of her it wasn't her first. Alex frowned, wondering what he was doing on her doorstep. He should never have come. He should never have bothered her with his problems, but she was the only one who knew.

"Clara," he spoke her name. "What…how many of those have you had?"

"This is the fourth," she said, peering down to the liquid. "Funnily enough you're not supposed to drink when taking sleeping pills…well…not this much, anyway."

"What's happened?" Alex asked of her.

"Nothing," she said. "I'm just having a drink. Do you want one?"

"No, thanks," Alex said, thinking of the pen in his pocket and his pills inside of it. "Look, I don't know why I came here. It was stupid…I…"

"Come to the back," Clara said, stepping out of her house and shutting the door, stepping down the staircase of the porch and around her house, pushing the wooden gate open that led to her spacious backyard.

Alex followed her, looking around. No doubt a lecturer's salary wasn't too bad judging by the state of her yard. He looked around, seeing how a patio area led from her kitchen. A small pond sat in the corner, but there were no fish in it. It was merely a water feature. In the corner of the yard sat a row of trees, their leaves dangling and creating a shaded area where a bench sat. Clara headed over to the bench, perching on the edge of it as Alex followed her and sat down.

"I don't know if they have bugged my house," she explained and he nodded.

"I'd suspect they have."

"Good job I haven't said anything incriminating then," she muttered to him. "Anyway, what are you doing here? I heard you were in Utah on the news. They said that a woman had been taken hostage along with her daughter while the convicts did work in her house. She didn't know what they were doing."

"I did," Alex mumbled. "There was this man called D.B. Cooper. He was an aircraft hijacker back in the early '70s. Anyway, turns out he stole a great deal of money…jumped from a plane and landed straight in Utah…in that woman's garage where the cons were looking for the money."

Clara felt her eyes widen before she let a laugh escape her, the noise loud and shrill as Alex watched her, looking less than amused with her antics. Shaking her head back and forth, she scoffed before moving her lips to her wine glass and sipping on the red liquid sat inside of it.

"I'm sorry," she said once she had gulped the liquid down. "Do you have any idea how insane that sounds?"

"Just as insane as eight convicts breaking out a jail?" he asked. "We're kind of living in a weird period."

"Yeah, no shit," Clara muttered, the smile falling from her face. "That still doesn't explain why you're here."

"No," Alex agreed. "There was this kid with him…young guy who…we caught."

He said nothing further and Clara bowed her head, managing to put her wine glass down on the floor before pulling her legs up to her chin. She wrapped her arms around her thighs before letting her cheek rest on her kneecaps. Alex bent forwards then, hands clasped in between his legs. He said nothing further, but he knew that she knew. He was aware of that.

"I'm sorry." Clara whispered.

"He was a kid," Alex muttered. "He was just a kid, Clara…wrong place at the wrong time."

Clara didn't even know what to say, closing her eyes she heard Alex sniff loudly, his hand running under his nose before he raked a hand through his hair. Clara didn't dare more, but she could see him struggling to hold back the tears he wanted to let out. She knew all about that.

"I shouldn't have come here," he said, shaking his head as he made a move to stand, but Clara moved then, her hand wrapping around his wrist to stop him. He turned his head over the shoulder, looking her in the eye.

"I get it," she promised him.

"I mean…Abruzzi was not my fault, Clara," he said in a small voice. "Well, I could have dealt better with the situation, but the kid…"

Clara had heard about the mob boss who had been shot after refusing to surrender. She had heard that and thought that Alex couldn't have had anything to do with that one. How could he?

"This is going to ruin you," Clara told him as he sunk back down, this time slightly closer to her as she leant forwards to peer at him, her hand still on his wrist and holding it tightly. "Alex, this is going to destroy you and we both know it. Do you think I haven't noticed?"

Frowning, Alex watched as Clara moved boldly to his jacket, her hand slipping inside of it as Alex remained still, feeling her fingers move into the inside pocket of his jacket before she pulled it out. Holding it in her fingers, she looked at him before unscrewing the bottom of it.

"You gave me your jacket the other night," she informed him. "I felt it then and had a look when I was changing in the bathroom. What are they?"

"You had no right to do that," he informed her.

"Perhaps not," she said as he tried to lunge for the pen but she pulled it behind her, glaring at him. "But I know an addict when I see one, or did you forget that Theresa had her demons when she was in college?"

"I'm not an addict," he denied.

"No?" she asked. "Then you won't mind me keeping these then?"

He knew that she had him. She was reading him well. He could see that. He moved with haste then, the strength of him taking her off guard as he leant around her grabbing her arm and forcing it from her behind her back. She winced in pain before she let him take the pen from her grip, holding her arm from where he had gripped it.

"So you're not an addict then?" Clara scoffed, standing up and letting her shirt fall down her body again, her jeans slightly wrinkled. Moving back to her house, she felt Alex move behind her, taking her elbow gently this time.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "Clara…I…you have no idea…"

"I do," she said, moving to stand before him, prodding him in the shoulder. "I get it, Alex. I was there when we killed Shales."

"You're not here now!" Alex snapped at her, voice loud and demanding, his hand pointing to the ground as he became erratic. "You're not the one having to do this to these men! You're not the one who has to look them in the eye before you take away their life!"

She recoiled from him them, seeing how he bowed his head, hands moving to his hair and tugging it harshly and she saw him began to wheeze loudly and she knew he was on the verge of a breakdown. She said nothing before moving to take hold of his arm, steering him back to the bench where they were covered in shade. She forced him to sit down on the bench again as he pulled to loosen his tie.

"I need to get through this," he gasped as Clara ran a hand up and down his arm liked she used to when Theresa was stressed and worried. She doubted it would work, but she was willing to try. "I need to do this for Pam and Cameron."

"I know," she told him. "I know, Alex."

"I need to keep going," he said. "I should get back to headquarters. I need to get back to work. They're holding a review tomorrow. Apparently the two deaths look suspicious."

"Will they find out?"

"Doubt it," Alex said. "But I'm going to prepare anyway."

"And those pills?" Clara said. "Alex, they're going to ruin you. You need to give them up."

"I can't," he said. "They help to keep me functioning. Look, I'm sorry, Clara. I should never have come here and burdened you with this. It's just…sometimes it's like there is no one…and that's my fault, but I wanted to make sure you were fine too."

"Better than you," Clara scoffed and Alex nodded at that.

"Wouldn't take much."

…

A/N: So I don't know if anyone is really reading, but if you are then please, please, let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

Clara didn't know what she was doing. She knew she was being foolish. She was being ridiculous. What made her think that he wanted to be near her after everything she had put him through? He kept claiming that he would have killed Shales, regardless of whether or not she turned up, but she doubted him. She doubted it and now she felt as though he was in this entire mess because of her.

" _Clara…put the gun down…" his voice had sounded so calm in contrast to Shales's hysterical tone. He kept laughing at her. He kept laughing at her and telling her that she didn't have the guts. But the man behind her was calmer. She felt his light touch on her arm, his hand moving to her other shoulder as his fingers ran down her arm to her wrist, his voice in her ear. "Clara, this will not bring your sister back…this will not bring Theresa back to you…don't give him the satisfaction."_

She should have just shot him and confessed. She should have let Alex put her in handcuffs and drag her away. Tom might have stood by her side through the trial and the prison sentence. He might have been able to wait for her. But she hid it and that drove her even madder than she had ever anticipated. Alex had told her to forget it, but he knew that there was no forgetting the look of a man dying.

And now he had found himself in an even worse situation and Clara was continuously blaming herself. She suspected that was why she found herself waiting outside headquarters the following evening. It had just struck ten in the evening and the car park was practically empty, except for her car and a couple of SUVs. She had sent him a text and she had waited by the barrier, arms folded over her stomach as she wondered if he even checked his phone.

Feeling ridiculous, she had been about to turn and leave before she heard the door open. Turning her head over her shoulder, she tucked her hair behind one ear as she saw him stood there, still holding the door wide open. Smiling softly, Clara moved up the ramp of the building and stood before him as he began to fret.

"Is something wrong? Did they do something to you?" he demanded and Clara shook her head at his panic.

"No," she replied. "Nothing has happened…I just…after yesterday…"

"Forget it," Alex waved a hand. "The internal investigation has gone away. Sullins didn't get to humiliate me in front of everyone like he wanted to."

"I doubt he wanted that."

"You don't know Sullins," Alex responded, his voice low and gravelly as he went back to his original thought process. "So what brings you down here? I have to tell you, Clara, after yesterday…me coming over…I thought that you might not want to see me again."

"Actually, your little trip had the opposite effect," Clara explained and he saw her tug her mac closer around her body. "I want to help. I know that I can't help you…well…in the field…but…I can help in other ways. Sometimes talking can help, Alex. You told me that when Theresa died. You sat there and you listened to me for hours. You listened to me tell you things I could never tell Tom. I just wanted to extend the same courtesy."

Alex frowned, but there was a look of surprise on his face as he heard her speak. Shaking his head, Alex dropped the door from his grip and moved his hands to his hips, peering at Clara with intrigue as she remained stood before him. He could not deny that the woman in front of him was the only one he felt comfortable around these days. She was the only one who knew, he suspected that was the reason why.

"Why do you want to help me?" Alex asked of her.

"Because I feel as though you are in this situation because of me," she said, holding a hand up to keep him silent before he could argue with her. "And that feeling will not go away, despite what you say."

"Clara, it is fine-"

"-It isn't," Clara interrupted him. "None of this is fine. You're addicted to those drugs…being blackmailed…just…you might not want to talk about those things, but if you keep things bottled up then you'll just explode."

Alex sighed. He agreed with her on that one. His hand moved to feel the pen inside of his jacket, but he didn't pull it out. Clara pretended not to notice the motion, but she did. She saw exactly what he was doing. She said nothing, choosing to remain mute as Alex nodded his head.

"I could do with a breather," he mumbled. "Just let me go and get my coat."

…

"It's funny, really," Clara said, sipping on her coffee as they sat in the diner just two blocks away from headquarters after Alex had complained that he shouldn't wander off too far in case he was needed urgently back at the office. "I used to see you doing press conferences years ago. I never thought I'd be sitting with you."

Alex chuckled, picking up his own cup and peering down into its depths. "Yeah, you and me both. They tell you never to get attached to the people you help…I mean, show them compassion, yeah, but never get in too deep. It drives you mad."

"And you got in too deep?" Clara wondered and Alex lifted his gaze to meet hers, eyeing her with caution.

"I'd say so," he muttered, thinking of everything that he had done for the woman who was sat across from him. He often found himself looking at her, wondering what was running through her mind. She had not ran away from him. She had insisted on being there and that was what made Alex weary. He pushed people away from him. He was a time bomb and he knew it was only a matter of time before he exploded. It was why he had insisted Pam and Cameron left. It was why he had ended their marriage.

But here he sat, a stained coffee mug in his grip, his head pounding from thinking too hard and the inquiry, and Clara Reynolds sat across from him.

"I still don't get why you're doing this," Alex said and Clara rolled her eyes at his concern once more before she dared to reach down and pick up the sugar, pouring some more into her coffee.

"Because…yeah…okay…I'm here for you after all you did for me…but…you're the only one who gets it, Alex. I tried to keep my normal friends, but they ended up abandoning me when Tom left. They wanted nothing more to do with me, especially when I stopped picking up their calls and socialising. Every time I went out I swore I saw Theresa and then I would…well…let's just say Tom put up with some embarrassing moments." Clara explained, a bitter laugh escaping as Alex let his hand move through his hair, ruffling it before he curled it back around his cup and listened to her.

"I mean, I threw myself into my work and finished my PhD. It distracted me. I needed those distractions…where I could lock myself away and just focus on something. But being out and about…I didn't focus on anything other than people who looked at me."

Alex didn't know what to say to her on that note. He didn't know what more he could say as she peered down to where her engagement ring had once sat, wondering if the wedding ring would have joined it by now if things had been different. She inhaled a sharp breath before peering over to Alex and then back down.

"I know it is ridiculous," she confirmed with him. "I know it sounds stupid, but sometimes I just…"

She didn't know what she wanted to say. She had no idea what it was she wanted to tell Alex, but he seemed to understand. Moving a hand across the table, he let his fingers go and rest on her wrist, holding it gently, feeling her cold hands as he let his larger fingers cup her skin.

"I get it," Alex told her and then retracted his hand once she had looked at him. "Okay? I get it, Clara."

They lapsed into silence and Alex wondered what he should say after her declaration. He had no words. He didn't want to talk about himself or what he was doing. He didn't want to talk about Pam or Cameron. He didn't want to discuss anything personal, but perhaps it might be nice to discuss something other than work.

"I take it things have gone back to normal?" Alex asked her, realising that he hadn't done this in a long time.

Clara nodded, taking another sip of her coffee. "Normal enough," she told him. "I took a couple of days off work, but I went back after that. I don't deal well with sitting at home. I'm thinking of moving anyway. Tom took off and half the house is his so I need to downsize."

"Anywhere in mind?"

"There's a little neighbourhood near campus," Clara said. "It would mean that I would be able to walk to work instead of driving. That would be nice…plus it would give me more time to lie in bed."

Alex chuckled, glugging his coffee. "I don't get people who would rather stay in bed than get up and do things," he told her. "If you lie in then you just waste half the day."

Rolling her eyes, Clara smirked. "That's an exaggeration. There is nothing wrong with spending some of the morning in bed. It helps you feel well rested. What do you do? Get up at the crack of dawn and go to bed at half seven?"

Alex let his lip quirk. "I thought we established that I don't sleep?" he asked and Clara did laugh then. It was a genuine noise that Alex had not heard come from her lips before. He didn't know this woman deeply, but here he was, sharing his deepest secrets with her.

"We did," she said, dragging him from his thoughts. "Anyway, it's funny, really. When you used to do press conferences…me and Theresa would sometimes catch the end of one and we always used to laugh."

"At me?"

"Well," Clara said, pouring some more sugar into her coffee and Alex furrowed his brows. "We used to laugh at your manner. You used to be so aggressive with the journalists. I know when I was a journalist I was on the features desk and not the crime desk, but they used to hate you there too."

"Good to know I'm hated universally," Alex said, a somewhat sarcastic tone to his voice.

"I don't hate you," Clara shrugged. "Sure, you're unusually obnoxious and smug about being the smartest person in the room, but you're not all that bad."

Alex felt himself blink profusely before folding his arms over his chest, looking more entertained than annoyed, letting Clara relax at the sight of him. Arching a brow in his direction, she waited for him to speak, but he seemed to be lost in his own world, his thoughts taking him somewhere.

"There's nothing wrong with being the smartest person in the room," he said and Clara snorted, covering her mouth after the noise escaped her and Alex could feel himself smile despite everything.

"You're not modest, either," she informed him. "And for your information, I'm the one with the doctorate so…" she held her hands up in defence and Alex watched the glimmer in her eye.

"You might have a doctorate," Alex informed her, "but you put too much sugar in your coffee. Do you bleed white and not red?"

"Very funny," Clara said. "There's nothing wrong with a lump of sugar."

"No," he agreed, "but there is with five lumps."

Clara let herself frown, pretending to glower to him before she laughed and Alex chuckled, not allowing himself a hearty laugh as he shook his head and she watched him peer down to his lap, wondering if, for once, she had done something right by helping the agent sat opposite her.

…

Clara spent the following night alone, sat in the garden as the sun slowly set, but its heat moved over her body. She had taken to staying in the garden for a while now, knowing full well that her house had been bugged. She knew there was no chance of them letting her get away without being watched. She had spent the previous night speaking to Alex again, meeting him in the diner once more. He had told her that he thought he was close to cracking Scofield, plus he had an idea that he would be meeting someone close to him.

She had tried to pry answers from him, but she had gotten nothing. Instead he had told her it was confidential and she accused him of being boring and mean. He had rolled his eyes, but the smile had not once left his face. Clara couldn't pretend that she didn't notice him taking the pills. She had told him that she could help him get off of them, but he had insisted that there was nothing wrong with him. He didn't fool her, but she didn't push him. She would just find another way to help.

Startling, Clara heard the creaking of her gate, jumping slightly as she wondered who it was. Looking to the gate, she felt herself grow weary. The man who entered looked around before his eyes settled on hers. There was something about him that looked suspicious, especially the way he tilted his head towards her and held a briefcase in his fingertips.

"Miss Reynolds?" he asked of her and she stood up from her bench, holding her wine glass as she observed his face. She saw him gulp once and then the sweat fell down his brow before she knew exactly who it was.

"Get out before I call the police," she demanded from him, but he shook his head.

"We both know it isn't the police who want me."

Clara remained stood where she was as the man moved closer. His hair was neatly cropped close to his head, the suit he wore was expensive, but slightly too big for him. He had piercing eyes and his face was typically handsome. He wasn't all angles and bones like Mahone. He was watching her as she determined what to do.

"I am not here to hurt you," he spoke, holding a hand out to try and calm her. "I just want to talk about someone we both know…if we can go inside?"

"No," Clara answered, knowing that she should run and scream for the police, but there was something about his tone. There was something so calming about it that she didn't bother moving. Instead she kept her eyes set on him. "I'm being watched…I think, anyway…I don't know, but outside is the only place I know they can't watch."

Motioning to the bench, he looked in her direction and saw the trees covering it, knowing that she had a point. He nodded and began to move towards the bench, sitting on the edge of it and Clara did the same, keeping her distance as she placed her glass on the floor.

"I guess there's no need for introductions," he said and Clara shrugged.

"I know who you are, Michael Scofield," she said. "Although what you are doing here is a mystery. If you wanted information on Alex then you've come to the wrong place. He has an ex wife in Colorado who might be more helpful."

"Oh, she was," Michael informed her, nodding his head at her as she kept her gaze on him, not once letting her eyes leave his as he kept his hands on his kneecaps. "She told me everything. She told me how he started acting odd at the very same time Oscar Shales seemed to evade her husband and the trail on him went cold. She told me about you…the sister of Shales's victim-"

"-Then she should tell you that I know nothing," Clara said and Michael arched a brow, looking at her with a similar stare that Alex had. It was the smug 'we both know the truth' stare.

"He buried him in his back yard," Michael said and Clara shook her head. "I get it. It all makes sense. Shales seemed to disappear…Alex had a breakdown…and it isn't difficult to see your fiancé has left you. Alex's wife said you had been engaged and yet there is no sign of a husband."

"This doesn't prove anything," Clara said, standing up and motioning to her gate. "I want you to go or I will call the police."

"Sit down," Michael urged her, his voice calm and controlled, yet there was a tone to it that she didn't want to disobey. "His wife told me how he dug the back yard up without a second thought after spending so much time working on it. I saw the soil…very clever…helping the body to decompose. He knew his stuff-"

"-He did nothing wrong," Clara interrupted, unable to take anymore of the conversation as she sat back on the bench and glowered at Michael, leaning forwards to press her hand to her chest. "I was the one who went after Shales."

"I know," Michael said. "That foolish interview you did to lure him out worked."

"Alex found me with him," Clara said. "He had been following me three weeks after that interview. He…the feeling of knowing he was there but not seeing him…you have no idea how that felt. I wanted to kill him. So I went out…where Theresa lived…near Colorado. He had murdered her in her own home and I wanted to extend the same courtesy."

Michael listened as she spoke and he knew full well that she was not Alex. The woman sat next to him was no killer. She was no one to worry about. She was innocent in all of this and he knew that.

"He raped and murdered my little sister," Clara said in a small voice. "The things he did to her…I wanted him dead…and he knew that, but he cornered me…he was too strong."

Michael remained mute as Clara let her eyes close.

"If Alex didn't show up…if he hadn't been tailing me…then I don't want to think about what would have happened."

"So if Alex showed up then why didn't he have backup?" Michael asked and Clara shrugged.

"No idea," she said. "I don't care. All I know is that he got Shales off me and I found my gun in my bag. I was going to shoot him and all he could do was kneel there and taunt me…tell me how I was too weak to pull the trigger…and I wanted to. I wanted to do it for Theresa. I wanted revenge."

She inhaled a sharp breath. "But I couldn't," she said. "And Alex knew that…but…"

"He shot him," Michael ended and Clara shrugged, watching Michael with narrowed eyes, her breathing uneven as Michael stood up, hands on his hips as Clara stood then.

"What we did might have been wrong," Clara said. "But it felt right."

"And now he's killing off convicts?" Michael asked of her. "He's not the good guy in all of this. He's a cold-blooded killer. I've seen the news and I know that now. He won't listen to us…all of this is a set-up…my brother did nothing."

"You have no idea," Clara shook her head, eyes wide. "He doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to hurt them…kill them…he's-"

Clara had no option to finish as she heard her landline phone begin to ring. Michael looked at her evenly and she wondered what he was going to say to her as he dared to move his hand to take hold of her shoulder.

"Stay away from him," he urged her. "He's not a good man."

"You don't understand," Clara said, but before she could say anything he had turned on his heel and was rushing towards her gate as her phone stopped ringing and she cursed lowly.

Moving into her house, she saw Michael climb into a car and drive off before she had a chance to stop him. She wandered through her living room, searching for her cell that she had thrown down onto her chair. She picked it up and flipped it open, searching for Alex's number. She found it and called it, pressing the cell to her ear, but it went straight to voicemail.

"Jesus Christ, Alex, what's the point in having a phone if you don't answer it?" she snapped into the voicemail.

The next time she tried to call there was no ringing whatsoever. He was either somewhere with no signal or speaking to someone. Clara waited another few minutes before trying again. It rang, but he didn't answer. Groaning lowly, she knew she had to tell him what had just happened. She did the next best thing. She called the headquarters.

"Agent Wheeler," a man answered. "Do you have any information regarding the Fox River Eight?"

She had called the hotline number, unsure of what more she could do. "Oh, hi, look, I'm a friend of Agent Mahone's and I can't get hold of him."

"Agent Mahone is on his way to the airport," he informed her. "Do you have any-"

She hung up before he could ask her anything more and she tried calling Mahone again. She tried to do the math in her head as she grabbed her satchel and car keys from the bowl on the coffee table. Moving out the door, she locked her house and climbed into her car and drove, knowing full well that she was breaking every speed limit set.

…

Alex pulled his sunglasses from his face, his lips pursed and his eyes narrowed. He had spoken with Scofield after the man had stolen his wife's phone. He had told him that he knew everything. He had taunted him, telling him that he would always be one step behind. Mahone could feel the anger inside of him boil over as he looked to the screen, the flight to New Mexico apparently still on time.

Moving towards check in, he had hardly expected to see the sight running towards him. She had red tinted cheeks, her hair flailing around her shoulders as her satchel bounced on her hip and she stood before him, panting for breath. Moving quickly, she let her hand hit his arm as he remained confused.

"Next time answer your phone, arsehole," she complained to him and Alex took her by the wrist, dragging her into a more secluded corner before he stood a few inches from her, looking at her with wonder.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded from her.

"He came to my house," she said.

"I know," Mahone mumbled.

Frowning, her face turned to confusion. "How do you know?"

"He phoned me to tell me. He knows everything about what we did, apparently."

"I tried to tell him that you had no option," Clara said and Mahone shook his head.

"It's better that he doesn't know any of that," he informed her in a low drawl as she continued to look at him with confusion, causing him to explain. "If he knows then it changes nothing. I still have to kill him. The fewer people who know, the better it is. You know that, Clara."

Nodding, she agreed with a lacklustre shrug. Alex then continued with his questioning.

"So what are you doing here?" he asked of her.

"I called the office and they said you were on your way to the airport. I figured I could beat you here by ten minutes," she told him. "And I had to tell you that he knew, but he could have saved me the hassle and told me he was going to give you a call."

Alex let himself soften at hearing her. "I'm heading to New Mexico," he said. "I think he is meeting with the doctor who helped him escape."

"Right," Clara said. "So it's just you going?"

"I thought that would be best," Alex mumbled. "No one else needs to know what I have to do."

"Then I'll come with you," Clara said with a nod and Alex shook his head.

"Absolutely not," he told her and she rolled her eyes.

"He came to my house," Clara said in a low hiss. "Okay? He was at my house and…and I think he knows something. He…I don't know…he said something about all of this being a set-up and I think he might know about these people threatening us."

"What are you on about?" Alex asked.

"Look, I know what I'm on about," she complained to him, rolling her eyes at his tone. "I think there is something deeper to all of this and I want to come along and find out what is going on."

"And if they get wind of you tagging along?" Alex asked.

"What?" Clara asked. "I'm not going against them. I'm just coming…for the scenery…whatever…it is none of their business. I'm doing what they want and keeping away from the police."

"And if there is a big conspiracy theory?" Alex wondered. "They won't want you uncovering it…Clara…come on…just think about this."

"I am," Clara said, her hands balling into fists by her side. "And too many people have ruined my life up until now and I'm fed up of it. I want answers and I'm coming with you to get them, whether you like it or not."

Alex watched her storm up to a travel agent desk and he remained mute, in awe of her for a few moments before he wondered if what she was saying had any sense to it.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

Clara sat down in her seat on the plane, peering out the window as the jet remained on the tarmac. Mahone sat down next to her after storing his holdall in the compartment above their head. He looked over to her, his face still one of thunder as he watched her avoid his gaze. He should have dragged her out of the airport.

He should have pushed her from the airport and told her not to be so foolish, but he didn't do that. Instead he could do nothing but glare at her. She turned her head over her shoulder to look to him, rolling her eyes at the sight of the stern FBI agent who was regarding her with contempt.

"You cannot stop me from catching a flight," she informed him.

"You'll find I can if I suspect you are hindering my investigation," he said in a hiss as people continued to board the plane. Clara shrugged her shoulders before reaching for the seatbelt dangling either side of her.

"I'm not doing that," she said. "I'm trying to get to the bottom of this."

"Why?" Alex demanded from her. She could see he was struggling with all of this, but she said nothing on the matter. Instead she leant closer to him, her hands wrapping around the armrest between them.

"Because this is wrong," she whispered to him. "Whatever is happening is deep and I am tired of being scared of people."

"These aren't just people, Clara," he hissed. "They're killers who would shoot you dead without a second thought. You know that as well as I do."

Rolling her eyes, Clara folded her legs over each other before pushing her hair behind her ears. "Then let them. I am not letting them win, Alex. I am not letting them think that they can get away with threatening people…how is that fair? Didn't you join the bureau to stop this happening? To stop bad people from getting away from things?"

"I joined the bureau because the pay was good," Alex said.

Clara scoffed. "You can't say that now, what with all the cuts."

"Clara," he hissed her name, trying to get her to come back and be serious.

"Sorry," she held her hands up in defence. "Look, how did you even know he was going to be heading to New Mexico?"

"You remember Kellerman?" he asked and she fought of the urge to either be sarcastic or snap at him not to be ridiculous. Of course she remembered Kellerman. The look on her face was enough to tell Alex that and he nodded, peering down the aisle for a minute. "Right…threatened your ex…got it."

"So what does he know?" Clara enquired.

"He knows that Dr Sara Tancredi bought a ticket out the New Mexico, in particular Gila," Mahone informed Clara. "He thinks that she is meeting with Scofield there. I…I think he intends to flee to Panama once he has finished putting his plan into action."

"And how do you know that?"

"The tattoos," he didn't offer an explanation, just stated that was how he knew.

"Clever," Clara said.

"You used to do investigative journalism, right?" Mahone asked, changing the topic and Clara nodded.

"Years ago," she said. "I mean, it was never this dangerous. I used to go undercover in local campaign offices and find out if there were any scandals or I used to go into business and try to find out if the working conditions were below par."

"But do you still have contacts?" he asked and she chuckled, looking out of the window as Mahone watched her, making out the end of a small smile playing on her lips.

"None that I talk to regularly," she said. "Why?"

"Because there might come a time when these sons of bitches need to be brought down," Mahone informed her. "I figured a journalist would be the perfect person to do that, but not one of these that you see on TV who like the limelight. You need one to go undercover and find out what this entire conspiracy theory is."

She frowned. "I thought that you weren't interested in that?" she asked of him and he shook his head.

"I'll be long gone before that happens," he said, almost as if he had some kind of plan that he didn't intend to divulge with her. She remained mute as Alex met her gaze and the cabin crew walked up the plane, checking that everyone was buckled in and safe. "I'm going to make things work with Pam again once this is done and them I'm off."

"I applaud your effort," Clara said to him and he shrugged his shoulders.

"We were married for twelve years," he spoke. "You don't just get rid of those feelings. Isn't it the same for you and Tom?"

A bitter laugh did leave her then and she peered down to her lap as the safety talk began, but no one truly paid any attention. Clara suspected that if anything were to happen to them on a plane then they wouldn't need the safety talk. She remained silent as Alex looked to her and she closed her eyes for a moment, squeezing them tightly shut.

"I think it would never have worked out," Clara said in a low voice. "Tom wasn't…he wasn't who I thought he was. Theresa had never liked him and she had been right. He stood by me, yeah, but I never realised how controlling he could be until he had gone. I never believed Theresa when she said that whenever he clicked his fingers I went running, but I did. That's not healthy."

Clara looked up once more, sniffing and then looking out the window. Alex struggled to watch her as she kept her gaze fixed on the outside world. The plane was now taxiing towards the runway, travelling at a slow and steady speed. She offered no more conversation to Alex, instead she kept mute as he did the same, his eyes fixed on the seat ahead of him as he considered what she had said.

…

"I should have bought a change of clothes," Clara complained once they stepped out of the airport and looked around. Alex was searching for the car that was supposed to be waiting for him in the car park just outside of the airport. He had the keys in his fingertips and scanned for the correct plate number.

"Did you know it was going to be this hot?" Clara continued to complain as they walked along the footpath towards the parked cars. "I doubt it. You always wear those stupid suits and probably roast."

He kept ignoring her, finally finding the car and unlocking it. She climbed in as he tossed his holdall into the trunk. Moving to the driver's seat, Mahone backed the car out of the space and then around the car park, coming to the barrier and flashing his confirmation of the car. The barrier lifted and he pulled out as Clara looked on.

"What do you think?" Clara asked. "If I had come out here and was meeting with someone then I'd check into a hotel."

"That's what we're going to check," Alex said, tugging his sunglasses from his pocket and placing them over his eyes while Clara reached into her satchel to search for a brush, tugging it through her hair. "Well, I'm checking them. You're going to remain in this car."

"You ruin all the fun," Clara complained. "But if you think I am going to stay in here then you're sorely mistaken. I'm coming with you."

"Like hell you are," Alex scoffed and she glowered over to him.

"I deserve to know what is going on here," she said. "I might not love Tom, but I don't want to see him six feet under."

"Well that is what is going to happen if you keep on searching," Alex said and Clara shook her head.

"No," she said, "because I know something that you don't."

And then she tugged her cell from her bag and read the text that she had received earlier. The text had come through while they were mid-flight and she had only seen it once they had landed, relief coursing through her.

"Clara, I just wanted to let you know that I'm waiting for a flight to the UK. My grandma is ill." She read out the text before snapping her cell shut and tossing it back in her bag, her hand pushing her hair from her face as she looked to Alex with a satisfied nod. "So there we have it."

"Doesn't mean they can't get to him."

"I doubt they're going to trail him out to London," Clara said. "So he's fine, which means I am not going to stop digging or reply to that message. I know why he text me…his grandma always liked me whenever we visited her. Bless her."

Alex had no response to that. Instead he clocked the first hotel and climbed out, picking out the picture of Sara he had in his holdall. He tucked it under his arm as Clara also stepped out and Alex looked at her from over the car, pointing back to the vehicle.

"Get back in," he demanded from her.

"No can do," Clara said. "I told you that I was coming with you and that hasn't changed."

"Clara." Alex warned her. "I can force you back into the car."

She was already rushing ahead to the reception of the hotel, satchel swaying on her hip as Alex complained in a low tone, knowing full well that he should bundle her back into the car and lock her in. But he didn't. Instead he let her rush ahead, wondering why she was being so stubborn about this. He suspected it was down to her inquisitive nature. She was a journalist at heart and she loved this. She loved the searching.

"Excuse me, sir," Clara was already speaking to the man behind the desk. "We are looking for a woman and we wondered if you had seen her."

"She's wanted in connection to aiding and abetting a fugitive," Alex spoke as he approached the desk, flashing his badge in the direction of the man before showing him the photo. "Her name is Sara Tancredi, but she could be travelling under a different alias…Kelli Foster, perhaps?"

Clara frowned. Why would she pick that name? The man shook his head at Alex.

"Never seen her." He said.

"Well can you call this number," he placed a card on the reception counter, "if you see her?"

"Sure thing."

They left the cheap looking hotel and Alex climbed back into the car as Clara did the same. Turning her accusing gaze to him, Alex sighed, knowing exactly what she was going to ask him. So he didn't bother to give her time to form a question.

"They're after her too," Alex said, adjusting his sunglasses on his eyes. "They shot a woman when they were going after her. They thought it was Sara and it was someone called Kelli Foster."

"Why?" Clara asked, the horror coming through in her voice as Alex shrugged. "It's not like she did anything but help them escape, is it? She was clearly in love with Scofield, from what the papers are reporting."

Again, Alex tried to act nonchalant. It was none of his business and he didn't want to get involved. It was best for it to be that way. He looked out of the corner of his eye to see Clara bite down on her lip, clearly thinking about what he had just said to her.

"Anyone associated to them is a threat, right?" Clara whispered. "I mean, that's why you're hunting down the convicts, right?"

"I'd imagine so," Alex said, not particularly wanting to discuss it any further. But Clara was a talker and she was always persistent and determined to know the truth.

"But that means that the brothers are right," Clara said. "Why else would they be killing these people? Because they're scared that they'll be found out for whatever they did. I don't know what it is they did, but they framed the Burrows man…it's the only thing that would make sense."

"You're treading on dangerous ground, Clara," Alex warned her, indicating to pull into another hotel, parking up as she climbed out and looked at him from over the roof of the car.

"But this is wrong," Clara said in a hiss to Alex. "All of this is wrong…"

"It is life," Alex said, pulling the sunglasses from his eyes as he glowered across to her. "Clara, you shouldn't even be here. God only knows why I'm dragging you around with me. I shouldn't be doing this, but I am. Whatever their motive is has no interest to me. Feel free to investigate when I am out of this and back with Pam somewhere they cannot find me."

Clara said nothing as Alex turned and stormed off and into the hotel, pushing the door open and letting out his aggression. Clara groaned to herself before sinking back into the car, closing the door behind her. She knew that she shouldn't be doing this. It would be easier for her to back off. It would be easier for her not to question what was happening.

But she was intrigued. She was intrigued and tired of people telling her what to do.

Alex came back after a few minutes, silence engulfing the pair of them as Clara looked down to the entwined fingers on her lap. She bit down on her bottom lip while Alex took a deep breath and drove off again. They went on like this until they came to the fifth hotel. This time Alex ran from the hotel, carrying a piece of paper in his hands along with the photo of Sara.

"Got her," he said, slipping the car into drive before motioning to the glove box. "There should be a map in there."

Clara pulled the compartment down and found the map, unfolding it and splaying it over her lap. She peered down it as Alex drove, quite clearly breaking the speed limits. She did her best to hang on tightly and look to the map, a feeling of nausea taking hold of her as Alex refused to slow down, overtaking everything in his path.

"What am I looking for?" she demanded from him.

"Someone called for her and asked her to go to Butterfield Road…16781. Apparently it is five minutes away but I need you to check it on the map."

"Yeah," Clara said, peering down to the map. "It is. We are literally on top of it. There's nothing really there except for a train track and some kind of industrial warehouse of some kind."

"Brilliant," Alex said with a low whistle and took another corner as Clara told him to make a left.

The drive was quite clearly going to take under five minutes and before she knew it they came to a dirt track and Alex slowed down, checking a sign to make sure they were in the right place.

"What are you going to do if they are there?" Clara demanded from Alex.

"Kill them."

"And the doctor?" Clara wondered. "Alex, she isn't part of the plan. She's innocent!"

"She's not part of my plan." Alex informed her.

She said nothing else as she spotted two figures in the distance. Peering with intensity, she saw them move into a white car, but they didn't drive in the opposite direction. They couldn't. There was no other way for them to go but towards them.

"Are they insane?" Clara roared as she saw the car growing closer, but Alex didn't stop and she turned her glare to him. "Are you insane?"

"He's not going to do anything," Alex said with a shake of his head. "He'll stop."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Just grab onto something," Alex said to her and she wanted to close her eyes as the car came closer. She should have screamed but she kept her lips firmly shut until the car was on top of them.

"Move the bloody car!" she roared at Alex, but he didn't.

Instead the other car scraped down the side of theirs, jolting them off of the road and causing them to spin. Alex didn't stop driving. Instead he just began to move off again, foot to the gas as he chased after Michael in the white vehicle. He remained in pursuit until Clara saw the white car approach the industrial site, the mesh gates moving under it as it drove straight through.

"Jesus Christ," Clara said, bouncing around in her seat as Alex focused on driving, pulling up alongside Michael.

The white car hit the black car they were in, knocking it off to the side slightly before Alex regained control and Clara peered out the window, clearly seeing Scofield in the driver's seat with a woman next to him.

"Alex," Clara complained to him as he forced the car off to the side, letting it crash into some kind out of outhouse. He kept on driving before slamming on the brakes and jumping from the vehicle.

Clara did the same, feeling slightly uneasy as she wobbled on her feet. Alex ran ahead and she chased after him, wondering what the hell he was doing as he came to the doorway to the warehouse. He pulled his gun from its holster while Clara stood in the doorway, wondering whether or not she should go in. She shook her head before stepping inside, wondering exactly what this building was.

She took a left down a corridor, knowing that shouting for Alex was not an option. He would not answer and he would complain to her about giving away his location. She kept her body tightly against the wall, turning the corner of the stone corridors until she came to a set of pipes, the noise from them enough to make her wince slightly.

Moving through them, she saw something in the distance, but it wasn't the familiar sight of Alex's black suit. Instead she saw a man in a white suit and the woman in the black jumper with long dark hair flowing behind her. Clara followed them through the pipes, keeping quiet as she saw them turn a corner.

She moved around the corner too, but she didn't anticipate the feeling of an arm capturing her waist and a hand going over her mouth. She remained calm as the woman stood before her, holding her hands up in defence to try and show her that they meant no harm.

Michael slowly released her mouth, looking to her as they heard footsteps. Clara turned to look to Michael, nodding her head.

"I believe you," she whispered, her voice barely audible as Michael looked questioningly to her, not entirely sure how she could believe him yet come here with Alex Mahone.

"I'll distract him," Clara said to them, looking between them as Sara furrowed her brow and studied the woman with intrigue. "Go."

Moving from where they stood, she rushed with haste through the corridors, not caring about the noise of her panting. She vaguely saw Sara heading for the exit and she suspected that she was going to make a run for it. Clara didn't know where Michael was. All she knew was that she suddenly heard the creaking of some kind of gate in the distance before raised voices entered her ears.

She walked closer to the sound, careful not to hit any pipes as she went. She stood around the corner, not wanting to be seen as Michael spoke.

"I wouldn't do that, Alex," Michael said, panting for breath. "It's propane…you pull that trigger and you kill everyone in here…even your little lecturer friend."

There was silence before a loud grunt of anger escaped Alex as he clearly tried to find some kind of escape. Clara remained hidden in the shadows, not wanting to come out just yet.

"I'll do it!" Alex yelled.

"Maybe," Michael said. "But, tell me, Alex, do you think that you're doing the right thing here? You're chasing the wrong guys. My brother is innocent."

"Well thanks for confiding in me," Alex said, sarcasm laced in his tone.

"Then shoot," Michael told him. "We all know what will happen."

"If there's gas then it will kill me anyway," Alex said.

"Not if your little friend comes for you," Michael said. "What are you doing bringing her out here, anyway? She's not like you, is she? She's not some cold blooded killer. So I'll give you a little bit of advice…both you and her need to back off, because you will not beat me. Whenever you think you have me in your grasp, you'll be two…three steps behind."

"Do you think?" Alex wondered.

"I'm not the one in the cage," Michael answered.

"Perhaps not," Alex said. "But there's a big difference between us, Michael. It is that you cannot kill anyone. You cannot do it and I can. I can do it…so whether I do it today in Gila…or next month in Panama…I will kill you."

There was silence then before Clara heard footsteps and she ran. She ran to the exit in time to see Michael come out of another door. She stumbled on the grass as a car drove up and Michael pulled the door open.

"Wait!" Clara shouted, her voice pleading as she moved towards them and Sara spoke.

"I cut the wires in his car," she informed Michael. "She can't follow us."

"I get the feeling she doesn't want to follow us," Michael said as Clara stood before them, her cheeks red and puffy as she placed her hands to her hips and Michael reached for the sunglasses in his pocket to place them over his eyes.

"I want to know what is going on," Clara said.

"We want that too," Michael said, "but how do I know that I can trust you?"

"Because…" Clara trailed off as Sara stood up from the car, her arm resting over the top of the door as Clara looked between them. "You can't trust me, but I am telling you the truth. You know what I did, Michael. You know what I did and so do the same people who want you dead."

"What do they want with you?" Sara was the one to ask.

"They think that I might go to the police and turn myself in for what Alex and I did. I trust you told her that?"

"I did," Michael confirmed.

"And if I did that then Alex wouldn't be able to do his job…his job which is to kill all of the escaped convicts," Clara declared. "They're keeping my ex…and his ex and son…they've threatened them if we don't do this. They've threatened them if we turn ourselves in. Alex is doing this to keep his family safe."

Silence surrounded them then as Sara looked to the sky and Clara wondered if she was appealing to their better nature. She only hoped that she was.

"And I think I know why they want you dead so badly," Clara spoke.

"Do you?"

"Because your brother is innocent," Clara said. "Your brother is innocent and anyone who escaped with you is a threat. You might have told them what you know…"

"So why are you on his side?" Michael wondered, holding the door to the car. "Why are you with him?"

"I don't know," Clara shrugged at Michael. "I don't know, but I do know that he doesn't want to do this. He's doing it for his family. You need to believe that. Alex isn't a bad man…not really…"

"Is he not?" Michael wondered, a tone of disbelief in his voice. "Because when I look at Alexander Mahone all I see is a ruthless killer."

"You don't know him," Clara said. "But why are these people doing this? Why do they want to frame your brother for the murder of the vice President?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Michael said.

Clara remained silent as she peered over to the warehouse and shrugged her shoulders. Moving backwards and away from the both of them, she spoke clearly. "Get out of here before I release him," she urged them. "And…please…just try to get to the bottom of this."

Turning away from them, Clara moved with haste then, running back into the warehouse as she heard the car move off. She took the corridors with haste, coming to an empty space before seeing the large metal cage in the middle where Alex was currently residing. He had his hands wrapped around the metal door, trying to push it open.

"Where is he?" Alex yelled at Clara who stood still before the cage.

"He got away," she muttered.

"Damn it," Alex complained.

"And he tampered with our car," Clara concluded. "So we have a good four mile walk back to Gila."

"And he did nothing to you?" Alex wondered, brows furrowed as Clara shrugged, ignoring his stare. "He did nothing to stop you from coming in here to get me?"

"He knew he had the head start," Clara said. "By the time you make it back to Gila he will be gone. Besides, I wasn't the one who put a gun to his head and threatened to kill him. Unlike you, I believe him."

"And who says I don't believe him?" Alex wondered, placing his gun back into his holster.

"I don't know what you believe in, Alex," Clara said, finally pulling the gate open to let Alex out.

He stepped out and Clara turned on her heel, walking away from the cage as Alex followed her, his footsteps heavy as he walked behind her and his cell began to ring. Clara listened in as he spoke, his voice thick with anger.

"Yeah, it's one of the hundreds of tattoos on Scofield's body…what about it? Yeah…well…I'll find it out…they won't get across the border...yeah…Bolshoi Booze."

He hung up and they came to the outside. She stepped out first and Alex followed, but he moved with haste. Now that they were in the fresh air he could move. He went to grab hold of her by the elbow, pulling her back to him before he pushed her against the wall, his hands going to her shoulders to keep her in place as she watched him with worry.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded from him.

"I know a liar when I see one," Alex told her. "Do you think that I didn't know you were hiding earlier? You're a heavy breather, Clara."

"Get the hell off of me!" she demanded from him.

"You were hiding and you didn't try to stop them. You let them go."

"Because they're innocent!" Clara yelled at him, moving to push him from her, her hands making contact with his chest.

"So is my wife and kid," Alex said. "So you're getting on the first flight out of here and staying away from me to let me finish my job."

"You know what?" she snapped. "That's fine with me."

He finally backed away from her and Clara shook her head, moving towards the car that had been tampered with. She grabbed her bag from it and Alex watched her place it onto her shoulder before moving towards the exit of the warehouse and the facility. She walked with haste, storming ahead as Alex saw her moving off. Shaking his head, he knew she wasn't to blame. But blaming her was better than blaming himself.

…

A/N: So I have no idea if anyone is reading/interested, but if you have made it this far then a review would be amazing! Thanks so much!


	8. Chapter 8

She had never felt anger like she was experiencing. She had caught the first flight out of Gila while Alex had hired another car and gone his separate way. They had walked for over an hour back to the main road before finding a taxi to take them back to the airport. Alex had said nothing to Clara and she in turn had said nothing to him. She didn't want to talk to him nor did she want to look at him.

Once they arrived, he had climbed from the taxi, pulling his sunglasses from his eyes as he watched her exit the other side. He looked on over the roof of the vehicle, calling her name once, but being ignored. She was already walking into the terminal, no doubt determined to get away from him. She hadn't seen him raking a hand through his hair at the sight of her going, letting out a large breath.

She hadn't dared look back at him, knowing that if she did then she might just yell at him for how he spoke to her. She knew that he was under stress, but he had no right to slam her against the wall or tell her what to do. But he was right. She wasn't going to get involved.

Storming into the airport, she booked the first flight back to Chicago. She had sat and waited in the terminal with patience, counting down the minutes until she could be back home. She tried not to let her mind wander to Alex, but it was impossible. He was occupying her thoughts too much.

She drove home slowly, crawling through traffic before pressing a hand over her mouth. Tiredness washed over her and she realised she hadn't slept in over a day. It must be nearly two days. She managed to get parked in her driveway, pulling the key from the ignition and then moving from the vehicle, grabbing her satchel from the passenger seat.

Fishing in the bag for her keys, she dragged them out and locked her car before moving up the steps to the front door. She unlocked it and walked in, tossing her bag down before locking the door once more. She moved at a sloth like pace through the living room, hands running through her hair before feeling how slick her locks felt.

Needing a shower, Clara moved into the bathroom, shedding her clothes and dropping them on the floor. Turning the water on, she kept a hand underneath the flowing water to check the temperature. It was still cool, but all she wanted was to get into the shower. She stood under the water for a while before washing her hair.

Once she had finished, she went into her bedroom and grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and then a long sweatshirt with the Harvard logo on it, reminding her of her college days. Those were easier times. How good it would be to go back to them. She went into the living room and turned the television on, settling down on the sofa and closing her eyes.

Slowly, she slid down the sofa, her head resting on a cushion as she let sleep come over her, the TV making a noise in the background. She felt herself begin to drift off before she heard a noise. It sounded like a creaking noise. Opening her eyes, she sat up and peered around. It was probably just the house. She used to tell Theresa that when the house made a noise at night it was just the house settling down. Her six-year-old sister had always been scared of each noise she heard. She grew out of it eventually and Clara only wished she could go back to the days when her sister still needed her.

Clara leant back against the sofa before she heard another noise. She stood then, jumping to her feet as she peered through the doorway to her kitchen. Her eyes remained on the open door as she looked to her coffee table. Grabbing hold of a vase that sat there, she held it in her sweating palms before moving forwards and into the kitchen.

She launched herself into the kitchen, vase in her fingertips. Her eyes flitted around the room, looking everywhere but seeing nothing. And then she felt it. She felt something on her waist. She jumped forwards before they could trap her. Stumbling forwards, she ran to the other end of her kitchen table, turning around to see a man stood there.

He wore a sharp suit, his blond hair neatly coiffed on top of his head. He had a stoic looking face, except for the small smirk on his lips. She was doing her best not to look too terrified, but then she saw that he held rope in his hands. He had rope.

"What do you want?" Clara snarled at him.

"You've been snooping, Clara," he spoke and she shook her head. "We know that you were with Mahone in New Mexico. What were you doing with him?"

"Taking in the scenery," Clara said and he laughed, pointing to her.

"You're funny," he said. "Unfortunately we don't tolerate that kind of attitude in The Company…so I need you to tell me what happened…everything you said."

"Why?" Clara wondered. "You're just going to kill me, aren't you?"

"No," he said with a tut. "I mean, you're going to wish I would kill you, but I've been ordered to leave you alive and too scared to talk. It seems your ex-husband is out of the country…so no one to threaten you with."

"Why keep me alive?" Clara demanded from him. "You've had no issue in killing off people who go against you before."

She didn't move from where she stood on the other side of the table, instead the man flexed the rope in his fingertips. She watched him make the movement before he moved his neck from side to side, cracking it.

"Because we need Alexander Mahone to do a job and killing you…well…we see how attached he is to you."

"You have his ex wife and son," Clara said. "They are the ones who matter and you have threatened to kill them if he doesn't do his job."

"We have," he informed her. "But we wouldn't kill them unless absolutely necessary. We know how much he loves them. We also know how much he cares for you…his little partner in crime. You see, hurting you would send him a message. Do his job or we will do worse than this to other people he loves."

"You're twisted," Clara snapped at him. "I said that I would stay out of this. Besides, Alex has nothing to do with this."

"He brought you along," the man said. "Now, I want you to tell me why and what happened."

"No," Clara said with a shake of her head.

It was then when she launched the vase towards him, watching it hit him and then fall to his feet and smashing on the ground. She ran around the table and tried to get to the back door, but she wasn't quick enough. He grabbed hold of her then, the rope in his hands slipping over her head and tightening around her throat.

Gasping for breath, she fought the rope, but it made no difference. She continued to gasp for breath until she felt her eyes roll back into her head and darkness engulfed her.

…

Alex had, once again, been so close to capturing Scofield. But this time Burrows had been with him. He had deciphered the code of Bolshoi Booze, the tattoo on Scofield's body. If he turned it upside down then it read out numbers instead of letters. It was a set of coordinates and it had led Mahone into the middle of the desert.

To make matters worse, Alex had heard from Pam. He had spoken to her, telling her how he felt bad for everything that he had done to her in the past. She had listened to him as he made up his excuses and he wondered if she believed any of them. He wondered if she believed him when he said that he wanted to be back with her. He wanted to be a family with her once more. He didn't know if there was ever a chance of that happening, but he was fighting for it.

His mind had been occupied on that conversation, telling his wife how he loved her, when he found the brothers in the middle of the desert off of Country Road 17. Alex had shot at them from his hiding place above the open desert, but he didn't know if he had hit anyone. They had sped off in a car before he had a chance to do anything further.

Instead he had rushed back to his own vehicle, cell in his hands as he demanded for an alert to go out on the car that they had used to get away in. He gave the location and continued driving, his cell ringing as he picked up the call and was told about someone in a hospital who might pique his interest. He had been someone who Scofield had met with, but he had some previous convictions for drug smuggling. Alex had listened to him with intrigue, standing by his hospital bed as the man told him that Scofield intended to flee.

He had demanded a deal. He wanted his medical bill covered and all his charges would be dropped, but he would be deported from the country. He had said that he did not want to be deported, demanding citizenship instead. Alex had fought off the urge to laugh, instead arching a brow and looking at him, wondering if he was serious.

Alex had felt himself grow bored with what he was hearing. Instead he had walked around the bed, disconnecting the machines attached to the man's body. He had slammed the door on the nurse who demanded to come in and see what was happening as the machines beeped. The man had squealed in the end, giving Mahone all the information he needed.

Apparently Scofield was flying out of New Mexico. Alex had demanded that they be intercepted if they go near the border, plus he had demanded for the plane to be shot down if necessary. He had the details of the jet and he knew that the brothers would be in it. He could sense it. It all made sense.

Alex had seen the plane fly overhead as he drove down the long road, his mind focused on the jets that were supposed to be following the plane. He had stopped driving in time to see the jets fly over, climbing from his car and knowing that they would find the plane faster than he could.

He climbed back into his car after a moment or two, beginning to drive once more, but this time he swore he saw two familiar figures in the distance. He didn't know if the heat had gotten to him or if they were actually Burrows and Scofield.

But then he had followed the car and he knew. It was them. He only hoped it was when he drove his car into theirs, the noise of the crash enough to deafen him for a moment before he climbed from the vehicle, fire coming from both of the vehicles as he searched for his gun, aiming it at both of the men.

"Don't move," Mahone demanded from them as they both knelt on the ground and he swore he heard the sound of the doctor's voice on the phone.

"You almost did it," Alex said. "Both of you get up and turn around."

"No," Michael snapped. "You can look at us when you murder us."

"Kill me," Lincoln stepped forwards, "but my brother did nothing. Let him go."

"I don't want either of you," Mahone said, the wild look in his eye enough to tell Michael that the man was becoming increasingly unhinged. He looked around for any sign of Clara, but he didn't see her. "I just want my life back!"

"So you will kill two innocent men to make sure that happens, huh?" Michael demanded.

"I'd kill anyone to get it," Alex had said.

He didn't get a chance to shoot. Instead he was apprehended by the border patrol who demanded that he drop his weapon until they knew that he was an FBI agent. Everything happened quickly then. The brothers were cuffed and put in the back of a police car while Alex sat in the passenger seat. It was only when he heard his cell begin to ring did he pull it out.

A familiar voice spoke down the line and he knew who it was. Agent Kim. Mahone ordered for the vehicle to be pulled over before he climbed out the car. He looked around in the darkness, nothing in sight except for the police cars in a convoy.

"What is it?" Alex demanded from the man on the other end of the line.

"You're not doing this right, Alex," Kim spoke. "First, you decide to bring along your own assistant to find the brothers, and now they end up in custody. That isn't what we planned."

"I get that," Alex said. "And I am working on it."

"Not fast enough," Agent Kim declared. "You see, we thought that you could do with a little incentive."

"Don't you dare," Alex snarled down the phone. "Don't you dare touch my family."

"Who said anything about your family?" Agent Kim wondered. "They're fine, Alex, but that friend of yours isn't looking so well. She told us everything…how she flew with you to New Mexico…how she saw Scofield get away. Apparently she doesn't know anything, only that you have to kill them. She doesn't know why. We just need to make you see that this is your problem and your problem alone. Now you know what will happen if you drag anyone else into this."

Alex felt his blood run cold and shudders run down his spine. He gulped loudly, turning around on the spot, his hand going through his hair as he closed his eyes.

"What did you do to her?"

"She will be fine," Agent Kim declared. "We did consider killing her…but we scared her enough to stay away and keep quiet. We threatened the same fate for her ex husband if she dared to speak."

"What did you do to her?" Alex repeated, each word a harsh and deliberate snap.

"You'll just have to find out."

…

Alex knew he was being reckless. He was being foolish and he knew full well that he should not be going back to Chicago. He had caught the first flight out of New Mexico, demanding that the brothers stay locked up until he returned along with the transportation from Chicago where the brothers would be returned.

He anticipated that he would be gone for about forty eight hours. He had said that no one was to let the brothers out of their sight and had made that clear. Touching down in Chicago, Alex took a detour, driving as fast as possible towards the suburban area where she lived.

He had tried to call her, but she wasn't picking up his calls. As he pulled up at the side of the curb, he climbed from the vehicle and ran up to her house. He found the front door locked and so ran to the back patio doors that led from the kitchen. They were open wide and he looked inside, the sight enough to make his eyes widen.

A chair had been knocked over in the kitchen while there were shards of glass by the doorway. It looked like there had been a smashed vase. Alex placed a hand to his gun, holding it tightly in its holster before moving further into the kitchen and towards the doorway to the sitting room.

It was then when he saw her. She was laid on her front, cheek turned to the side and her eyes wide open. She wasn't moving, but she was breathing. He could tell that from the way her body moved up and down. Rushing to her side, he knelt on the floor, hands hovering over her back.

"Clara," he whispered her name. "Christ…"

Bending down once more, Alex let his hand go to her back, but she visibly winced and grunted in pain. She didn't move, but her hands by her head balled into fists and she closed her eyes tightly as Alex watched her intently. She was dressed in a grey sweatshirt, the bottom of it stained red with blood. Her legs were bare and he could see the marks on them. There were slight cuts all over them, the raised skin red and dried blood on them.

"Clara, what did they do to you?"

"Go away," Clara whispered, but Alex ignored her.

It was then when Alex took his initiative and lifted her sweatshirt up, peering up and lowering it with haste. The cuts span up her back and Alex swore he had never seen such a sight before. He noticed that her ankles and wrists were bruised. Clearly she had been tied up.

"I need to get to you a hospital," Alex told her in a small voice. "Clara, you need to get to a hospital."

"No," Clara mumbled.

"How long have you been like this?" he demanded from her.

"Just go away," Clara complained once again.

"I can't," Alex said, his voice breaking slightly, "because you're like this…in this state…because of me…because…"

She didn't know what he was doing as she felt his hands move towards her, moving to wrap around her waist. He heard her sob lightly as she bent her head and her hair fell in her face. Alex didn't know what to do to help her. He knew that he had to get her up, but it was proving difficult, as he didn't want to harm her injuries.

"I told them nothing," Clara said in a small voice, knowing that her house was still bugged. "I told them that I had gone with you because I wanted to help…but they got away…"

So she had said nothing of what she had discussed with them. Alex knew that she thought the brothers were innocent. She knew that. He knew that. She knew there was some kind of conspiracy theory. It just didn't make sense why they didn't kill her. She was useless to them. She held no value. Alex couldn't quite grasp it.

They seemed to think that if they killed her then he would not be as focused on the job. He knew to an extent that was right. He did care for Clara. It was impossible not to care for her after everything they had been through. He knew what they were trying to do. They were trying to scare him. They were telling him that things could get worse if he didn't do his job properly or dragged other people into his mess.

"It's okay," Alex promised her in a low voice. "Everything will be okay."

"I want no part in this," Clara said in a small voice. "I don't want to help…"

"It's fine," Alex informed her. "I just need you to get up and I need to get you to a hospital."

He had kept his arms encircled around her waist, holding her upright as her side leant against his front, her head resting just next to his shoulder.

"If I go to hospital then they will want to know how this happened," Clara said to him. "I can't go to hospital…I just…I don't want to stay here."

"Got it," Alex mumbled to her and then slowly moved to his feet.

He steadied Clara to her feet too, holding her by the waist as her legs continued to feel weak. He couldn't blame her. She looked terrible. She looked horrific. He said nothing to her, instead making sure she was steady on her feet before he peeled his jacket from his shoulders, draping it over hers to offer her a bit more warmth.

He helped to pack a holdall for her as she sat on her bed, watching him go through her things. She failed to care. He stuffed them into the bag before she slid on a pair of yoga pants, the only item of clothing not to rub against her injuries. Alex wrapped an arm around her waist again, her bag in his other hand along with her satchel. He helped her into the car before driving off, looking to her occasionally and seeing her staring out of the window.

He came to a hotel not far from headquarters, going in and telling her to wait for him to come back out. He checked her into a suite before going back for her, once again aiding her from the vehicle, his arm around her waist as she leant against him, too weak to stand on her own.

He could feel people watching them as they moved through the lobby of the hotel and towards the lift. Alex led the way until they came to the room. He pushed the key card into the lock and it lit green. He held the door open and Clara moved inside the room, collapsing into a heap by the bed as Alex knew they could now talk freely.

"Talk to me," he urged as he saw tears continue to fall from her eyes.

Kneeling in front of her, he tried to calm her, his hands moving over hers as she shook her head.

"He broke into my house," Clara said. "I didn't hear him until it was too late…I thought he wanted to kill me…but he said…he said that was not an option…that you were too attached to me…that…that hurting me would keep you on track to do your job...he said you should never have brought me with you to New Mexico...dragged me into your mess, but I told him I wanted to go...they did this to let you know what they were capable of…that they could do worse to me…or your family."

"Son of a bitch," Alex mumbled.

"They said that if I dare talk about…about them…you…Shales…then Tom would suffer a worse fate," Clara continued. "I told them that killing me would change nothing…that it wouldn't do anything to you."

"No," Alex said with a shake of his head, his hands squeezing tightly onto hers. "That's not true, Clara."

She blinked profusely then, wondering what he was talking about before he looked her in the eye, his gaze even and face determined as she watched him back, feeling his hands run up and down her forearms that were still covered with his jacket and sweatshirt.

"Why?" Clara asked in a small voice.

"Because I do care and they know it," Alex whispered. "You're…I haven't had a friend in a long time…or someone who even cares about me…so yeah…I guess I do care and they know it."

She said nothing to him then, choosing to keep silent as Alex dared to move a hand to her cheek, wiping the tears from them before pushing her hair behind her ear. He moved to rest against the bed then, sitting next to her as she dared to move a hand to his arm, holding it lightly, almost as though she was telling him this wasn't his fault. If only he could accept that.


	9. Chapter 9

Alex pulled his cell out, moving into the bathroom while Clara remained on the bed. She was laid on her front, unable to lay on her back due to the scars there. Alex had turned around as she had pulled her sweatshirt from her body, only to let intrigue take hold of him as he turned back to see the scars on her skin. He felt himself gulp at the sight of her as she reached for another loose nightshirt.

He had left her then, pressing his cell to his ear as he shut the bathroom door. It took a couple of moments before Agent Kim picked up, the man's cocky tone entering Alex's ear.

"She's in a state, isn't she?" he said.

"I get it," Alex seethed, his anger becoming too much for him to handle. His hand gripped the cell tightly while his other hand held onto the sink, his head bowed over it as he struggled to look up and face the reflection in the mirror. "I get it, okay? Get the job done with no help from anyone…but she knows you exist. You kill people who know you exist. Isn't that why you sent someone for Tancredi?"

"Perhaps there is a higher authority than me who is keeping her alive, Alex?" Agent Kim asked and Alex felt his brows furrow together as the man spoke. "You're right, we do eliminate threats, but I have been informed to make a special case for Miss Reynolds."

"Why?" Alex asked.

"That's above your pay packet, Alex," Kim responded down the line, a chuckle escaping him. "But make sure you don't drag her into any of this. It is safer that way…understand?"

"I never intended to do that in the first place," Alex responded, standing tall and pinching the bridge of his nose as he let a sigh of exhaustion escape him before his mind went back to Clara. "But what you did to her…"

"Not me personally," Kim responded. "No, the man we sent was a professional. Don't worry. He made sure he didn't cut her too deep. She'll be sore for a while, however…and those scars will be nasty."

"You know, I've done some pretty bad things in my time," Alex said, reminiscing for a moment before shaking his head and pacing the length of the bathroom. "But I have never hurt anyone like you hurt her."

"So sweet," Kim mocked him. "While I have no doubt you would like to take your time comforting her, time is not on our side. I need you back in New Mexico and I want the brothers dead before they reach Chicago."

"Impossible," Alex's hand went to pull his hair. "They're under a tight guard. How do you expect me to be able to do that?"

"I expect it because it would be a shame for something to happen to Pam or Cameron."

Alex let his fist bang on the tiled wall then, his forehead sharply leaning against the tiles as his eyes closed and he went silent, knowing that there was no use in threatening this man. He did not work on threats.

"Leave them alone," Alex snarled.

"Will do," Agent Kim confirmed, "so long as you do your job."

The line went dead and Mahone did his best to reign in his temper, pocketing his cell once again before reaching for his trusted pen. He swallowed the two pills without a second thought and then moved into the room again, closing the bathroom door behind him. He half expected Clara to still be on the bed, but she was stood up, arms folded over herself as she peered out the window.

She was dressed in a checked nightshirt that sat half way down her thighs. Her hair had been tied behind her back and Alex was doing his best not to look at the cuts on the back of her legs. He remained silent for a few seconds, simply staring at Clara and letting his mind run wild with what he was seeing of the woman. He found it difficult not to feel ill as he watched her. He didn't know why this had to happen to her.

She deserved so much more and Alex knew that.

Instead of lurking, the agent sniffed, alerting her of his presence, but still she didn't turn around.

"I need to go back to New Mexico," he informed Clara. "We caught the brothers…I need to return them to Chicago."

"You mean kill them?" Clara contradicted, still looking out the window.

"Don't," Mahone pleaded from her, his voice weak instead of tight.

"I'm not interested," Clara whispered. "Do what you have to do…I don't care anymore."

Alex watched her back with intrigue, knowing full well that they had broken her. He moved closer towards her, standing on the other side of the window as he looked outside too, his eyes focused on the ground three floors down.

"I…I packed you some painkillers and antiseptic cream. You should put it on those cuts so that they don't become infected," Alex said and Clara nodded.

"Will do," her voice was hoarse.

"And I'll come back here when I return," Alex told her. "I've had the room billed in my name so order whatever you want."

She did look to him then. "Why did you do that?" she wondered.

"Because it is the least I could do," Alex said. "Christ, Clara, I should be doing more for you. I was the one who told you about all of this…the one who didn't march you away from the airport when you demanded to come to New Mexico. They wanted to hurt you to get to me and they succeeded."

"I made the choice," Clara said in a low voice. "I involved myself in your business."

"But you didn't ask for this," Alex said in a small voice.

"Neither did you," Clara shrugged and Alex shook his head as he listened to her.

"Don't show me any understanding," he urged of her and Clara shrugged, the look in her face fierce as Alex saw the rage slowly building inside of her.

"Why?" she demanded from him. "Did you ask for this to happen? Did you ask for that bastard to come into my house and torture me? Is that what you wanted? For him to…to do this…?" she motioned down her body and Alex shook his head as the tears began to fall down her cheek and she closed her eyes, her hands going to cover her mouth.

Alex reacted brashly then, unsure of what possessed him to act in such a manner. His hands went to her wrists and he pulled her hands from her face, letting her sob openly as he looked down to the bruises that sat there, his eyes glimmering with rage.

"I'll make them pay," he informed her. "For this…what they did…they won't get away with it forever."

"What can you do?" Clara demanded from him, trying to pull her wrists from his grip but failing miserably as he kept hold her. "If you do anything then they will hurt your family."

"But the man who did this," Alex motioned back to her bruises. "I will find the man who did this…"

"Why?" Clara asked of him. "I don't want you to kill him, Alex. We've done enough of that for a lifetime…I want him to pay, fucking hell, I want to kill him myself…but I won't and neither will you."

"No," Alex shook his head back and forth. "He can't get away with this."

"He has!" Clara snapped then. "They'll always get away with it because they can! Whoever they are…whatever they want…they are the kinds of people who will always win. I know that now and I want nothing to do with it. I want nothing to do with this madness."

Alex seemed to understand what he was hearing from her. She wanted to stay out of it and he was going to make sure it happened. He was going to keep her locked away until all of this mess had been cleared up. Although a part of him was curious. He was curious as to why The Company had decided to keep her alive. They said it came from someone high up. What did Clara have that they wanted?

He had no idea. All he knew was that, whatever it was, it was best buried deep down.

"I need to go back to New Mexico," Alex informed her, knowing that he didn't want to bring up what had happened. "But just call me if anything…whatever you need."

"And what happens when you return?" Clara enquired.

"I'll come and check in on you," Alex said. "Just stay here until it is all over. Call your college and tell them that you're sick."

"Yeah," Clara said, folding her arms as she took her wrists from Alex, unable to look at the bruising that sat there any longer. Instead she went back to staring out of the window, her eyes focused on the ground as Alex observed her.

Nodding his head, he dared to step forwards, moving a hand to her shoulder. But that didn't distract her from her staring. "I meant it, Clara…call me if anything happens."

"Thank you," she whispered and Alex removed his hand before walking towards the door.

He looked back to her as he held the wood open, wondering if she would ever be able to recover from the torture she had just endured.

…

Clara didn't leave the hotel room for two days. She had told the maids not to disturb her, placing the sign on the door. Room service came once, but Clara found that she couldn't stomach the food she had ordered. She had turned the TV on, listening to the noise in the background. She was doing her best to relax, but every time she closed her eyes she saw his face.

Fear rose in her body as she saw something on TV, turning the volume up and sitting on the edge of the bed. She listened as the news anchor spoke, informing everyone that Lincoln Burrows and Michael Scofield had escaped police custody and were now on the run. But then she heard something else. Alexander Mahone had been shot and was in a critical condition in hospital.

Placing her hands to her mouth, Clara stood up, stepping closer to the TV, almost as if that would give her some more information. Her hand moved to the TV and she bowed her head, wondering what the hell could have happened. Had it been The Company? Had he gone against them? Or had he been shot in the crossfire?

Clara didn't know. All she knew was that Alex had rushed out to Chicago when he heard she had been beaten. He had dropped everything and rushed to make sure she was alive. She felt as though she should extend the courtesy, but she wondered what would happen if she did that. She had been told to stay out of the business. She had been warned to keep her distance.

But that didn't explain why she grabbed her coat and satchel before leaving the hotel room.

…

There were times when Alexander Mahone had thought that he would die. There had been times when he suspected he might meet his end. He chased men who committed heinous crimes. He chased men who would kill him without a second thought. Of course he had thought of death.

But then Kellerman had shot him. He had shot him just beneath the shoulder and he wondered if this would be it. He had woken up attached to bleeping machines, feeling groggy and slightly out of it. It was then when he decided that life in prison would be better than this. At least he might be safe behind bars. He had told Agent Kim that. He had told him and Agent Kim that Kellerman had been the one to shoot him and help the brothers escape.

He was under guard from an agent, but the man soon left once Alex had said that he couldn't do it anymore. He said that they could throw him in jail for everything. Of course, they had told him that it wouldn't just be him who they would throw in jail. They had dragged Clara into the equation. Alex had snapped then, saying that they had no evidence of her being involved. He had hung up the phone and demanded the agent leave and give him time to think about everything then.

He sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in a white top and loose black trousers, his hands holding his head. He only turned when he heard footsteps approach the door to his hospital room. Turning his head over his shoulder, he was shocked to see her stood there. His eyes widened and he watched her move into the room, her hand going to her hair and pushing it back over her shoulders.

"I heard what happened on the news," she whispered to him, moving around to sit in the chair by his bed, perching on the edge of it. "They said the brothers escaped."

"They did," Alex said, his voice hoarse as Clara saw him fiddle with the clip on his finger. "Paul turned against me…The Company…he shot me and helped to escape with them. I don't know why, but he's gone rogue."

"I don't care about that," Clara said, begging for him to say nothing further. "I care about what happened to you."

He noticed how she wore a free flowing white shirt over her frame along with linen grey trousers. She was still looking quite pale and her eyes held bags underneath them. Alex furrowed his brow as he watched her and she shrugged, not daring to sit back in the chair.

"You flew to Chicago to see me," she said. "I thought that I would extend the courtesy."

"You could have called."

"I did," Clara said. "They said you were completely out of it and they were monitoring you. I mean…this is just getting ridiculous."

"I know," Alex said, "and that is why I told the agent in my room and Mr Kim that I want no more to do with this. I'm going to hand myself in for what I did to Shales and then they have nothing."

"They have your family," Clara hissed at him, leaning forwards as Alex shook his head.

"Why would they hurt my family if I end up being useless to them?" Alex wondered.

"Because they can," Clara shrugged. "I thought that we had learned that these people don't need a reason to do what they do."

Alex shrugged. "I told them I would think on it anyway."

Clara felt herself tapping her foot nervously before she heard a cell begin to ring. Alex looked over to it, picking it up and placing it to his ear while Clara looked away, trying to give him some privacy. But she heard something in his tone change all of a sudden. There was fear in his voice as he pulled the clip from his fingertip and began to stand up. Clara wondered if he was about to collapse as she dared to stand up and watch him move.

He hung up and slammed his cell back down on the bedside cabinet.

"My son's been in an accident," Alex said with haste, searching for his holdall of items. "I need to go…go to Colorado."

"What has happened?" Clara asked as she saw sweat begin to form on his brow.

"Pam said it had been some kind of car accident…so I need to go…he's broken his leg."

"You've just been shot!" Clara yelled at him. "Alex, you cannot leave a hospital and get a flight. You're going to end up passing out…vomiting…you'll make yourself ill. Just listen to me and sit back down."

"He is my son, Clara," Alex seethed. "If you had any children then you'd understand."

He saw her begin to blink profusely before folding her arms over her stomach, her mac dangling over her arm as she looked around and Alex wondered if he saw her eyes begin to grow wet. Had he said something he wasn't supposed to? Had he insulted her somehow? He didn't know. He remained quietly packing before Clara sighed.

"I have a car in the car park," she said. "I rented one from the airport. I can drive you."

"Thank you," Alex said, his voice full of sincerity as Clara heard the nurse enter and begin to scold Alex as he finished readying himself. The nurse stood no chance of dissuading Alex as he pulled his suit jacket on over his white top.

"Agent Mahone, you cannot discharge yourself," the nurse continued to speak.

"My son has been injured," he responded. "I have no option but to go. Do you understand me?"

"You're going to pass out or make yourself worse…the stitches are fresh," she continued to protest, but Alex was already out of the door.

Clara followed him out, but she stood to look at the nurse before looking over to Alex. She looked over to him as he noticed she wasn't following him. He turned back around to watch her as she glanced back to the nurse.

"Is there any medication he needs?" Clara enquired from the nurse."Yeah, mainly pain relief."

"I'll be-"

Clara held a hand up to silence him as she went back to look to the nurse. "Can you just give us a prescription and then he can take them? I know this isn't ideal, but his son is in hospital."

The nurse regarded them with intrigue before sighing and nodding, motioning to the reception desk with her hand as Clara followed her and Alex remained stood where he was, watching as Clara spoke politely with the nurse and waited for the prescription. She took it and thanked the nurse before searching for the car keys in her bag, swapping the prescription for the keys.

"Let's go," Clara said and Alex nodded.

He was impatient as they took the lift down to the reception. Clara stood by the machine used to pay for car parking while Alex watched her.

"Just wait for me outside if you want," Clara said, noticing how he kept on sweating. He needed the fresh air.

He moved outside and onto the sidewalk, looking around before he saw him. The agent who had been in his room was now stood by a light blue sedan. He was looking quite smug, a small smirk on his face as he moved over to Alex. He folded his arms over his sharp suit as Alex watched him.

"A broken tibia…" he drawled and Alex felt red hot rage surge through his body as the man spoke. "It can cause a lot of problems for people in later life, especially for young kids."

"You bastard," Alex hissed.

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "I just did what had to be done."

"You stay the hell away from my son."

"We would have done if you did not have that little wobble in there. How many times do we need to tell you that there is no way out of this, Alex? Surely you have to see that now…or do I need to tell you again? Or show you?"

"Do you think I'm going to let you get away with this?" Alex demanded from him. "You hurt my family and I will come after you."

"Alex, I've paid so let's…" the new voice trailed off as Clara appeared before them.

Alex didn't turn around, but he did feel a hand go to his arm. He felt her squeeze tightly onto his forearm before he turned around and looked down to her, but her eyes were set on the blond man before her. She looked terrified. All she could see was his face as he stood in front of her, the knife in his hands as he demanded her to tell the truth.

Alex moved quickly then, knowing exactly what was happening. He moved his arm further across Clara's body, trying to shield her from the man as he smiled in amusement.

"Clara," he spoke her name. "How good to see you again. Are you here to check on Alex? That's very sweet."

"Get away from me," Clara demanded and he held his hands up in defence.

"Don't worry, Clara, so long as you behave yourself then I'm under strict orders to stay away from you…from orders quite high up…seems you have some kind of guardian angel on your side."

"What are you on about?" Alex was the one to ask as Clara felt Alex's muscle flex under her grip and the blond haired agent shrugged.

"No idea," he said. "But consider this your warning, Alex…your son…your little Clara there…none of them are safe if you try and pull another stunt like you did."

"I get it," Alex told him. "Clara, go to the car."

"Why?" Clara whispered, but Mahone snatched his arm from her grip and turned to look down at her, his face now tinting red as she saw the anger continue to grow there and she knew she should do as he asked.

"Just go," he demanded from her once more and she scurried off, not daring to wait around as she moved into the car park across the road.

Unlocking the car, she climbed into the driver's side and sat and waited for Alex to make his appearance. She had no idea what he was doing. All she knew was that she received a text from him ten minutes later, telling her to go to the airport and wait for him there. She had no idea how he was going to make his way there, but she did as she had been told.

The sun was slowly setting over New Mexico and Clara waited outside of the airport, looking around for Alex as anxiousness took over her. What had he done to that man? Clara didn't know if she wanted to know. All she knew was that she felt relief when she saw him walk up the steps of the airport, now dressed in a shirt with no tie.

"What did you do?" Clara worried and Alex looked to her anxious face.

Holding his arm out towards her, he didn't touch her as he simply guided her back into the airport terminal.

"Sorted the problem. He won't be bothering you again."

Clara gulped. "Do I want to know?"

"I doubt it," Alex whispered. "Now I need to get a ticket and get back to Chicago."

Clara remained mute as Alex left her and headed to a travel agent who informed him that the final direct flight was the red eye back to Chicago, meaning they had a six hour wait in the airport. They went through the check in process and then sat in the departure lounge. Alex basically collapsed into his seat and Clara handed him a painkiller, telling him that he should get his prescription filled when they returned home.

They sat in the leather seats, peering out on the runway as they watched planes come and go down the runway. Their eyes remained set on it before Clara spoke, her voice small and a whisper.

"Your son," she said, "it wasn't an accident, was it?"

"No."

"Why else would you kill him?" Clara mumbled.

"He hurt my son," Alex said in a low voice, "and he also hurt you."

"Don't," Clara pleaded with him. "I don't want to talk about it, Alex."

"I know," Alex assured her.

"So what now?" Clara wondered. "You go back to your job and I go back to the hotel?"

"About right," Alex mumbled. "Although…I have to be honest with you, Clara…I might need to borrow the hotel room and get some rest. I'm not feeling too great and I don't want to go home. I hardly sleep there."

"You should go back to the hospital," Clara said.

"Just like you should have done?" he questioned her and Clara looked away as Alex chuckled. "We're both as stubborn as each other. How are your…well…" he trailed off as Clara shrugged.

"Fine," she said. "I keep taking pain medication…but…they'll never go away…and on my legs…dresses are nearly impossible unless I have tights."

Alex didn't know what to say. All he knew was that he could see the sorrow in her face, but she soon shook it off when she went back to looking at the planes on the runway and Alex did the same, folding his arms as he considered the state of the both of them.

"Thank you," he said out of nowhere, "for coming here. You didn't need to."

"I know," she said, "but I wanted to…we are friends…right?"

Alex didn't know how to respond to that. All he could do was offer her a nod as his hand dared to rest over hers, holding onto it tightly as she let him. The feeling of his warm, large hand engulfing hers was pleasant. No one ever touched her. Tom hardly touched her towards the end. She had never craved human contact, but she couldn't deny that it felt nice now that it was happening.

...

A/N: If anyone is reading then do leave me a review, it would mean a lot!


	10. Chapter 10

Clara refused to let Alex drive the following morning when they touched back down in Chicago. It was still dark outside and Alex had called Agent Lang, leaving her a message to tell her that he wouldn't be at work that day. He suspected that they could cope a day without him, but he had told them to call him if something urgent came up.

Driving through the quiet streets of Chicago, Clara took a slight detour, picking up Alex's prescription as the FBI agent slept in her car, unable to keep his eyes open. Clara would have chuckled if she wasn't scared of waking him. They had gone to his house prior to that, letting him grab everything he would need. He contemplated staying at home, wondering why he should waste money on a hotel room, but then he saw the bird bath in the middle of his garden and changed his mind instantly.

Clara groaned as she saw the queue at the twenty-four hour pharmacy. She would often peer over her shoulder, looking back to the car where Alex slept. He seemed rather peaceful and a part of Clara wondered if she should check he was still breathing. The man had just been shot and he was already stronger than others. She hadn't asked him what he had done to that blond agent. She didn't want to know. All she knew was that he had disposed of him somehow.

Clearly he had been right. He didn't have any reservations about killing. It made her wonder why killing Shales had affected him so much. If he didn't care about killing the man then why was he swallowing those pills like there was no tomorrow? She knew that Shales had begged for his life once Alex had trained his gun on him. But Clara didn't see any mercy on Alex's face.

It almost made her laugh. She was aiding a killer. She was looking after a man who had killed before and, no doubt, would do so in the future. Then again, who was she to judge? She had every intention of murdering Shales. She wanted to do it, but she couldn't. Shaking her head, she tried to convince herself that it didn't matter. Alex had chosen his family over everything. She would do the same if she had been with Tom, blissfully unaware of just how toxic their relationship was.

Once she pulled into the hotel, Clara climbed out of her car and the sound of a door opening was enough to wake Alex. He startled for a second, grunting in confusion before rubbing his eyes and running a hand down his neck, feeling how stiff he was from his awkward position sleeping against the window of her car.

Clara waited for him before going into her bag and walking to the reception with him. "I kept the room key before I flew out," she said to him. "I never checked out so everything should be as it was."

"Right," Alex muttered.

"I mean, I can find another room," Clara said to him. "Just let me go and find someone at reception."

"No," Alex said with a shake of his head. "Don't bother wasting money. There's a reasonable sized sofa in that room. Anyway, I don't think…well…leaving me in a room…chances are I could probably be ill."

"Yeah, well, that's why you don't discharge yourself from hospital when you've been shot," Clara said, looking to the side at him as he let a small smile fall on his lips and he came to the elevator, watching as Clara pressed the button to summon it.

"I'll be fine," Alex responded. "Just need to rest for a while."

"No kidding," Clara said.

Alex had been sweating for a while, but the droplets of water were now pouring down his forehead and down his cheek, the shirt he wore wet as Clara swore she had never seen someone look as bad as he did at that moment. He stepped into the elevator besides her, his hands going to his hair and tugging through it. Clara kept her eye on him as they went up to the third floor and she opened the door to the room.

They both entered in silence, Alex going about walking into the bathroom with the holdall he had. He shut the door and began to pull his suit from his body, not bothering to fold his clothes neatly. Instead he kicked them into a pile in the corner of the room, hands going to the taps of the sink and running the cold water. He splashed it over his face before feeling the bandage on his shoulder where the bullet had hit him.

"Christ," he grunted at the sight of it, his fingers running over the bandage that sat underneath his plain white top.

He didn't mess with it, not wanting to irritate it as he felt a slight stinging pain. Finishing off changing, he walked out of the bathroom in time to see Clara begin to peel off the shirt she wore. She startled for a second as Alex diverted his eyes.

"I didn't think you'd be that quick," she told him, pulling the loose shirt tighter together on her form as he shrugged in response.

"Do you have my prescription?" he asked of her, changing the topic. "My shoulder is giving me a bit of grief."

"Yeah," Clara nodded and moved towards her satchel that she had dumped on the desk next to the window. She pulled it open and found the bag of pills before handing it to him.

"Thanks," Alex said.

"No worries," she said. "Listen, just sleep in the bed. I'm…I'm fine on the sofa."

"No-"

"-Can you just do as your told?" Clara snapped, her voice stern and the look on her face enough to tell him that he shouldn't test her. He should know that look. He had the same expression on his features often. "You've been shot, Alex. How many times do you need to be reminded of that? Really, I should drag your arse back to a hospital."

Alex challenged her then as he saw her continue to hold her shirt together. "If I go into hospital then you're in the bed next to mine," he informed her. "Don't pretend your fine either. I've seen the way you can hardly lean back against anything. You've been sat up straight the entire journey home…too scared to put weight against your back."

She couldn't deny that then. Instead she shrugged her shoulders and began to move towards the bathroom. Alex let her go, hearing the door close and lock. He sat on the side of the bed, pulling a water bottle out of the mini fridge as he went. He swallowed the pills, longing for them to get to work as soon as possible.

Clara stayed in the bathroom for a while, brushing her teeth and then showering. She looked in the mirror over the sink once she was done. Her back to it as she turned her head over her shoulder to look into the glass, inhaling a deep breath as she looked to the scars and then reached behind her for the antiseptic cream.

She winced as her fingers moved against the raised skin and she wondered how long it would be until the redness went away and she was left with a white scar. She had one on her knee from where she had fallen as a kid, but that was nothing compared to the marks on her back and legs.

Moving towards the nightshirt she had hung up on the back of the door, she shrugged into it and then downed her final painkillers before leaving the bathroom and shutting the light off. Alex was still perched on the side of the bed, hands between his legs as he bent forwards slightly.

"Are you going to be ill?" Clara asked of him, carrying her clothes and dropping them into the bottom of the wardrobe.

"Maybe," Alex muttered.

"You've been in the air and driving for a while," she said. "It would make sense for you to feel nauseous."

"Yeah," Alex mumbled and Clara tugged the trashcan from the corner of the room, depositing it by his bedside before going to sit on the edge of the sofa in the corner of the room.

"You maybe shouldn't lay down until the feeling has gone," Clara said. "It's best just to sit up and wait for it to pass…or until you empty your guts."

"With a bedside manner like that it's a good job you never went into the healthcare profession," he grunted and Clara couldn't help but let her lips rise despite herself. She could feel Alex watching her as she remained seated on the edge of the sofa.

"Theresa would sometimes come to the house," Clara said, looking down into her lap as she spoke. "She would…well…be completely out of it…weed, usually. Tom used to tell me that if I kept taking her in then she wouldn't learn her lesson. He used to say that she was twenty one and able to stand on her own two feet."

"But she's your sister," Alex declared.

"Exactly," Clara said. "I think mom and dad dying…I mean…she was just twenty and still so young. It took its toll on her."

She remained silent for a second, Alex knowing all about how her parents had died in a car accident. There were eleven years between Clara and Theresa, the younger sister having been the product of many attempts by her parents to have another child.

"Everyone copes with things differently," Alex said to her and she shrugged.

"I guess," she agreed with him. "I just wanted to keep her locked up whenever she came round, completely wasted. She was my little sister and I just wanted to help take the pain away from her."

"And what about you?" Alex asked and Clara looked up, brow furrowing as she heard him speak to her. Alex continued, still slightly pale as his he remained bent forwards. "In my experience…there's always one person in a family who has to be there for everyone else while no one is there for them."

Clara didn't say anything, merely offered him a shrug of her shoulders before daring to stand up and move around the room, hands on her hips as Alex couldn't stop his gaze from the cuts that sat there.

"Yeah," Clara spoke. "I mean, I had Tom, but he never…he never got it. He never understood how I felt responsible for Theresa. He never got that."

"Some people don't," Alex spoke.

"Yeah, well," Clara shrugged, "that's all in the past, isn't it? Anyway, you should get some sleep if you feel less sick."

"A bit," Alex muttered.

"Okay," she responded, picking up a pillow from the bed and moving it over to the sofa and depositing it just underneath the arm. Moving to the wardrobe, she found a thin blanket on the top shelf.

She reached for it, her back protesting as she grabbed hold of it and held it to her stomach, her head bent as she gasped for breath, the feeling of pain flowing through her.

"How bad are they?" Alex asked of her, noting the motion as she draped the blanket over the back of the sofa. "And don't just say fine, Clara."

"They hurt like hell when I'm not dosed up on painkillers," Clara finally said and Alex was shocked that he got a straight answer out of her. She moved to rest on her front, pulling the blanket down and over her body.

She pressed her cheek into the pillow as Alex moved to rest back on the bed. He pulled the duvet up and over his body, despite the fact that he was boiling hot. He wanted to sleep, but a part of him still felt slightly ill. He closed his eyes as he heard Clara's breathing shallow out, indicating she was sleeping. Alex wasn't shocked. She might struggle to sleep, but there would be no doubt that she was exhausted. He was feeling pretty much the same way.

…

Sitting up, Clara panted for breath as the sun streamed into the room. She pushed her legs over the side of the sofa, the blanket draped over her lap. She buried her head into her hands as she leant forwards, her fingertips pushing through her hair.

She stood up quickly, her feet pushing her towards the window as she peered outside and looked around, making sure that there was no one else watching the room. She had to admit that she had grown paranoid, despite the fact that Alex had killed the man who had tortured her. She just knew that there were always others watching.

Alex was still sleeping soundly on the bed, resting on his back. He had his mouth slightly open, breaths escaping him slowly. His arms were resting by his side and his hair even messier than usual. Clara had watched him for a few moments before going to sit back on the sofa, her hands lacing together as she began to sweat nervously.

It was only after a few moments when she heard a cell begin to ring. She made a move for her satchel, but then she realised that the call wasn't coming from her bag. Instead she heard it from the pocket of Alex's jacket. Cursing lowly, Clara pulled the cell from the material.

"Agent Mahone's…well…cell," Clara spoke, her voice low as she tried not to wake Alex.

"This is Agent Lang," the voice on the other sound spoke. "Who is this? Where is Agent Mahone?"

"Sleeping," Clara answered. "He's fine…just…tired…"

"And you are?" Agent Lang wondered and Clara realised how suspicious it sounded as she racked her brain.

"A friend," she simply said. "Clara Reynolds…just let me see if I can wake him."

She pressed the phone against her shoulder before moving to Alex's side. Reaching down, she pressed a hand against his shoulder, shaking him slowly. He didn't startle, but he did groan as his eyes opened and he let them flicker around. Clara retracted her hand as she spoke.

"Sorry," she said. "It's Agent Lang…she said she needs to talk to you."

"Yeah…got it," Alex spoke, taking the phone from her fingertips.

"Lang, yeah I'm fine," Alex spoke as Clara went to her bag to find a new outfit for the day. "I'm in a hotel not far from headquarters. I can be there in…give me half an hour…yeah, I'll be good…she…yeah, I'll explain when I come in."

Alex hung up and then moved, each movement tentative as Clara found out a new pair of trousers and a shirt.

"I need to go," Alex said, standing up and grabbing his bag. "Apparently we might have a lead."

"Do you want me to drive you?" Clara wondered.

"I'll get a cab," he informed her. "You stay here and I'll be back tonight."

"Are you sure you're going to be okay to go in?"

Alex chuckled. "I don't have much of a choice."

…

Alex could feel Wheeler watching him with suspicion as soon as the tape had aired. He had to be honest, as soon as he had seen the news, he was feeing the nerves inside of him begin to make themselves known. He wanted to reach for his medication, but he couldn't. He couldn't take his pills and look guilty in front of the agents who stood with him in the field office.

Burrows and Scofield had gone on the news, recording a video to be displayed to the entire nation, declaring how they were innocent and being framed for everything. They said how the vice president's brother was still alive. They spoke of how the vice president had been involved in the cover up. They discussed how there was a higher authority than the government.

And then they had brought Alex into the equation. They had said how he was killing off the convicts. They even said that he would be making it look like an accident. But then they had done it. They had brought in Shales.

They had mentioned how he had killed him. They had said how he had covered it up. Alex had listened with intensity before he heard his cell begin to ring. He knew who it would be without even looking at the ID. He said nothing, instead muttering;

"They're crazy."

He took his call outside, pressing his cell to his ear as he felt people watching him.

"What are they doing?" her voice was high and hysterical as Alex walked into his own office.

"Calm down, Clara."

"Calm down?" she demanded from him. "How the hell can I calm down? He's gone on national TV and said what we did."

"But he didn't bring you into it," Alex informed her. "Why is that, Clara? I don't understand it…"

"You don't need to understand it," Clara said, "because I don't understand it. I want to know what is happening…what will happen…"

"Nothing," Alex promised her. "They're going to bury this story and by the time you're eating dinner tonight it will be of no importance."

"You sure about that?" she asked and he chuckled.

"It better be," he declared. "It better be."

He kept on talking with Clara, pacing his office as he tried to calm her down. He was being watched by people in the office, knowing that people were suspicious. He said nothing, however, choosing to keep silent as the majority of agents went about trying to decode the tape. But Agent Wheeler and Agent Lang had other ideas.

Lang was sat at her desk, looking over a file as Wheeler went to his desk next to hers, hands moving to wrap around the chair he sat in as he looked to Lang, brows furrowing together.

"Who did you say he was with this morning?" Wheeler spoke, remembering standing by Lang when she had called Alex and told him to get into work.

"A woman…I don't know," Lang shrugged. "It's none of our business what Alex gets up to in his spare time."

"No," Wheeler said, "but did you say her name was Clara?"

"Yeah, why?" Lang wondered from him.

"Was her last name Reynolds?" Wheeler continued and Lang let her brow furrow as he shrugged at her and she slowly pieced two and two together as Wheeler pulled out his cell and searched for Internal Affairs number.

"You can't think he has anything to do with this…or her…maybe they're just friends?"

"I doubt it," Wheeler said, his voice low so that no one could hear them conversing. "Alex doesn't do friends, does he? You know that as well as I do. Why would he be friends with her?"

"So what are you going to do?"

"What I should have done a while ago," he responded and placed his cell to his ear as he called the number.

…

Alex had been out of the office all day. He had gone to see Brad Bellick at Fox River who had helped him to confirm that the tape hadn't been about proving the brother's innocence at all. It had been about luring out Sara Tancredi. Michael had used words, or more specifically, chapters, from the book that each recovering addict was advised to read. Mahone didn't know if he would have gotten that information if he hadn't been to see Bellick.

He had promised the man a favour, but when he called the new warden of Fox River to ask for that favour he had been stumped. He didn't mind, as a matter of fact. Instead he was quite unperturbed. What happened to Bellick was none of his business.

He had then gone to see the cameraman who the brothers and Kellerman had taken hostage to record the video. He informed him of how the brothers had spoken about it taking six hours to travel a certain number of miles. Mahone had climbed back into the rental car from the bureau, driving back to base.

But he didn't expect a familiar sight once he entered the office. He didn't know if it was her, but as he approached he knew it was. She had her dark hair hanging loosely down her back, a cup of water in her fingertips as she remained silent and sat across from Agent Wheeler. It was nearly ten in the evening and Mahone was grateful the office was nearly empty except for Lang and Wheeler.

"What the hell is this?" Alex demanded and Wheeler shrugged his shoulders.

"We're just doing checks," Wheeler spoke.

"Yeah, on what?" Alex demanded as Clara remained in the wooden chair, holding onto the plastic cup of water before she sipped it, keeping it to her lips as she heard the anger in Alex's voice continue to rise.

"We know that Scofield and Burrows were lying," Wheeler said, but he didn't sound entirely convinced. "But then Lang took a call this morning."

"I told them they are being ridiculous," Clara finally spoke up, peering up to Alex as they both exchanged anxious stares. "I said that I didn't know what Burrows and Scofield were going on about."

"No one knows," Alex said, hands on his hips as that hysterical look came over his face. It was a mixture between anger and disillusionment. "No one knows because they're escaped criminals!" Alex was now pointing to the TV screen on the wall where the tape was being played continuously.

Lang folded her arms over her chest as Alex paced up and down the room. "So what is this, Wheeler? You get one whiff of a chance to suck up to Sullins and bring me down and you couldn't wait to give it a shot?"

"No one is doing that," Lang declared and Alex suddenly let his frustration get the better of him as he kicked a wastebasket off to the side.

Wheeler stood up then, looking to Alex. "You need to calm down."

"And you need to back out of my business," Alex retorted, getting closer to Wheeler before prodding him in the chest. "What I do, or who I am with, in my spare time is none of your business."

"It's suspicious," Wheeler held his hands up as Clara shook her head. "The woman who tried to lure out Shales just happens to answer your phone this morning…Internal Affairs just wanted me to question her and make sure there was no truth to the allegations."

"And what did she say?" Alex demanded.

"Nothing," Wheeler said. "She's been here half an hour after staying in a hotel under your name and she won't say anything, which isn't making much sense."

"So you drag her here in the middle of the night?" Alex demanded, pointing to her. "What did you want, Wheeler? You wanted her to admit that I did it? That we're involved in some conspiracy together?"

"So why else was she in a hotel under your name?"

"Why do you think?" Clara demanded, seeing no other escape from this as she moved to her feet, leaving her cup of water on the desk as everyone turned to look to her. "I mean…I thought you FBI agents were supposed to be clever?"

Wheeler turned to her, a brow arched as Clara rolled her eyes. "Do I need to spell it out?" she enquired.

But then everyone slowly began to piece two and two together. Lang had the decency to start to walk away, not needing to hear anymore as Wheeler shook his head, almost as though he didn't know what to say. Clara shook her head, pretending to be angry as she looked the man in the eye and Alex let his eyes flicker around.

"Now, can I go?" she demanded from him. "Or do you need something else from me?"

"But you're a victim's sister," he stuttered.

"Yeah," Clara said, "so why do you think I didn't want to say anything when you hauled me in here? Besides, it only started after the case went cold. I think two adults are allowed to do what they want."

Alex resisted the urge to say anything, but he had to admit that Clara was clever. She was clever and rather manipulative. She was already causing Wheeler to look like a scolded schoolboy instead of an authoritative FBI agent. Alex was doing his best not to smile at the sight he was witnessing as Clara rolled her eyes.

"So, can I go?" she asked again.

"I guess so," Wheeler mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

Clara shrugged into her mac and held her satchel by the small handle, carrying it by her side as Alex said he would walk her out. He followed her out of the building until they came to her car and she took a deep breath, turning to look to Alex.

"Christ," she complained. "Do you think he bought it?"

"Yeah," Alex said, unable to stop a smirk on his face. "I have to say, I usually love dragging Wheeler down, but you did a good job."

"I also lied to him," Clara said.

"How does he know if it is a lie?" Alex asked of her. "As far as anyone might know, we have been seeing each other in secret."

"Good job no one really knows us then," Clara scoffed, unlocking her car.

"Good job," Alex echoed. "That should keep Wheeler off of your back, but I don't think it will keep Sullins or Internal Affairs off of mine."

"Anything I can do?" she asked and Alex shook his head, pulling the door to her car open for her, holding it wide as he watched her climb into the vehicle. He let his arm dangle over the top of the door as he spoke.

"I think you've done enough," he promised her. "I should be back later tonight…to pick my stuff up from the hotel and then I'll go back home."

"No problem," she told him. "Listen, Alex…" she trailed off, biting down on her lip as she contemplated what she was going to say. But she didn't know. She didn't know what she was thinking as she chewed down on her bottom lip. She just felt as though she wanted to say something to him. Instead she shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "I'll see you later."

Nodding, Alex shut the car door and went back inside, unable to stop himself chuckling as he thought of the look on Wheeler's face.


	11. Chapter 11

Clara had kept her distance from Alex ever since the night she had been hauled in for questioning by Agent Wheeler. Three days had passed and she had heard nothing further. She had checked out of the hotel and gone home and Alex had done the same. He had told Clara over the phone that there was no reason to worry, but he knew that wouldn't appease her. He had suggested she should go and see someone, but she had scoffed and shook her head.

Back at home; Clara did everything in her power to stay out of the house. She went back to work, dosed up on painkillers as the cuts slowly began to knit together, the skin paling as they did so. Clara had heard over the news that another convict had been captured after turning himself in for his daughter's sake. She had been ill and needed life saving medicine.

Burying her head into her hands at the news, she closed her eyes. The man had turned himself in for his daughter. How did a man like that end up in jail? A man who cared for his family? She didn't know. All she knew was that she couldn't imagine how Alex was coping with the idea of having to kill him. She almost picked up her cell and told him not to do it. She wanted to beg with him not to do it, but then she put the phone back on the coffee table.

She didn't need to get involved in his business. They had told her to stay out of the way and that was what she intended to do. She intended to keep away from him.

She had heard on the news that another convict had committed suicide; the footage was shown of him stood on top of some tower, Alex next to him. Clara wondered if he had anything to do with that or if he had tried to talk the man down. Biting down on her bottom lip, she had turned the TV off and gone back to marking papers, her legs crossed as she sat on the floor and the coffee table acted as her desk.

It was a Wednesday evening when she heard her cell begin to ring. Looking down at the caller, she rejected the call. She didn't want to deal with small talk down the phone. She had received the invitation to her uncle's birthday over in LA the other week, but she had yet to RSVP. No doubt her cousin was trying to get her answer for numbers. A part of her wanted to go, if not only to escape Chicago for a little while. But she had never been close to her uncle. Her dad's brother worked in a company to do with business. She never asked for the specifics after the one time she did, she didn't understand what he said.

Standing up after rejecting the call, Clara wandered into the kitchen, pulling out a chilled bottle of white wine and unscrewing the lid. She took hold of the wine glass from the glass cabinet, checking it for smears before pouring the liquid. She knew she wasn't supposed to drink while on strong pain medication and sleeping tablets.

Sipping on the liquid, Clara took a few moments to think before she rolled her eyes and reached for her cell. She picked it up, holding it in her hands before she redialled the number that had just called her. Perhaps a weekend in LA wouldn't be the worst thing to happen to her.

…

The idea of killing Franklin didn't sit well with Alex. The thought of sending the rope to his cell and threatening his family made him feel ill. He had vomited that evening, knowing that we had had done had been wrong But then Franklin had told Mahone about the secret website that they used to contact each other.

The information had come in handy, but Alex had yet to use it. And then the news had come in that Fernando Sucre was almost in their grip. Alex was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. He had been almost happy at the thought of this all ending. Brad Bellick had tried to claim reward money for helping find Haywire, but Alex had dismissed him, telling him that he was lucky he wasn't sending his arse back to Fox River. But then he had sent Bellick to Mexico to find Sucre. It was enough to get him out of his sight.

He had even come close to finding out more about Burrows and Scofield. Apparently The Company had sent some men to try and lure them out in the city, but it hadn't worked and they had escaped. But the men had tried to meet with someone from the Attorney General's office. It was then when Alex knew. He knew without a shadow of doubt that they were innocent. Kim had confirmed it, but Alex had slowly felt himself change.

The President's visit to Chicago meant that the brothers might try something. He didn't know for certain if they would try something, but he suspected they might. The more digging he did, he realised that they had to be close. They had to be watching. They had told the man from The Company to meet them at a specific point. It was then when Alex realised that they were definitely watching.

…

Clara had her tickets booked for a flight to LA. She left Friday night straight after college and returned Sunday evening. It was Thursday evening and she was packing, preparing to take her suitcase with her to work the following day. But before she could finish packing, she needed to find an outfit to wear. She needed something long and that covered her back completely.

She had clothes strewn all over her room, her TV turned on and showing the news. The President was making some kind of speech in Chicago, but Clara barely had any interest in that. To her, the woman was a fraud and a fake. She didn't know if she was involved in her brother's business, but Clara had a feeling that she might be. And if she was then she knew that Burrows was innocent.

Rolling her eyes, Clara shook her head and slipped into the next dress, pulling it over her body and checking her reflection in the mirror. Her hands going to the material and tugging at it, flattening it as she tried to see how it looked. All she could see was how ridiculous she looked. The black material was too clingy and Clara swore it dipped slightly too low to reveal too much of her back. Turning around, she looked at her reflection in the mirror for a moment before seeing that the dress hid everything.

Settling on wearing that gown, she began to reach for the zip at the back, but she failed miserably as she heard a knock on the door. She froze for a moment, worry coursing through her veins as she let the banging noise echo through the house. Taking a deep breath, she walked towards the door, her eyes widening once she opened the wood and saw a familiar looking face stood there, his hands holding his badge in his fingertips.

"Miss Reynolds," he said.

"What is it this time?" Clara complained as she saw Agent Wheeler flash her a cocky smirk.

"I need to take you in for questioning."

…

Holding Tancredi prisoner in the hotel room hadn't been difficult. Alex had found her hiding underneath the bed, but she didn't know the first rule of trying to escape. You never leave the room until you are certain that someone is gone. She was sat on the edge of the sofa while Alex stood by the window, peering down onto the street. It was the perfect vantage point.

"When did they leave?" he demanded from Sara. "Five or ten minutes ago?"

"They were not here," Sara said, clutching her bag in her lap.

Alex pointed at her. "I know they were here, but where did they go?"

Sara remained mute for a few moments, thinking of the best answer to give to him. "I don't know."

"You do know."

"Michael decided it was for the best for me not to know," Sara responded. "And…I couldn't take this anymore…"

Alex turned around, sitting on the ledge of the windowsill as he waved a dismissive hand, his eyes scrutinising Sara. She was doing her best not to crumble under his hard stare, knowing that she had to stay strong for Michael's sake. Michael was the one who needed her now.

"So it is over?" Alex asked of her. "Just like that?"

"Yeah," Sara said.

Alex shook his head, his hands still failing around his body. "It was over when you went to New Mexico to meet him, wasn't it? And wasn't it over when you met him at the train station, too? Oh, and then there is today…when you checked in here and he was with you."

His voice was verging on shouting towards the end as Sara remained calm and controlled, refusing to show him any sign of fear.

"I don't care if you believe me," she spoke as Alex continued speaking at the same time.

"So what? No phone call…nothing…no secret meeting?"

"Here," Sara said, slamming her cell on the table in front of her, but Alex shook his head again, pointing to her.

"Do not lie to me," he warned her, turning to go back and look out the window, quickly texting Lang and telling her to get to the hotel.

"I am not lying," Sara whispered. "Michael knows it is over…I couldn't do this…I couldn't go through with it. I really do not care if you don't believe me, but you should know that not everyone wants a life like this."

Alex furrowed his brow, still looking outside. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I don't see that woman with you," Sara looked around, emphasizing her point as Alex closed his eyes, knowing exactly who she was talking about. "Clara, wasn't it?"

"She's…" Alex trailed off, shaking his head. "Don't mention her name."

"Why?" Sara wondered from him. "I saw her that day. Michael told me why she was with you. He told me what she had done to that man on the run."

Alex turned around then, moving with haste closer to Sara as she sat up straight, unable to believe what she was seeing from him. She swore he was on the verge of some kind of break down as he once again pointed to her.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Alex told her. "She did nothing."

"Perhaps not," Sara said, "but I know, okay? I also know that she isn't like you. She believes Michael. She let us escape that day."

Grinding his teeth together at hearing that, Alex knew she had let them escape. He knew full well that she probably couldn't have stopped them, but she had done nothing to keep them where they were. Alex reached into his pocket for his pen as Sara's brow furrowed.

"What are they?" she asked as he swallowed them whole.

"Want one?" Alex muttered, throwing a pill in her direction.

Sara took hold of it, looking at it for a moment before whispering; "Benzodiazepine," she spoke in a low voice as Alex shrugged and she glanced back across to him. "They're some pretty strong tranquilizers."

"Yeah," Alex agreed with her.

"It explains why you look terrible," Sara said. "How often do you take them?"

"Every day."

"Someone only takes them because they've got a lot of problems," Sara said.

Turning away from the window again, she saw how his face had reddened and his hair was a mess around his face. He nodded his head, his eyes holding some form of a far away look to them as he spoke in a low voice.

"I do," he admitted. "But I take them and it gives me some peace."

"And that's why you started, right?" she asked of him. "It's nice to have the peace and quiet, isn't it? But that's when you started…now…I'd guess it's because of the headaches and struggling to sleep. But you know that one day you're going to destroy yourself."

"One day I might," Alex said and it almost sounded as if that was what he wanted.

Shaking his head back and forth, he did his best not to sound too worried about that possibility.

"Does anyone else know?" Sara asked of him.

"Only one person," he admitted. "She spotted it like you did, but I told her I wasn't addicted to them…but…I think she knows the truth…she's not stupid."

"Clara?" Sara guessed, nodding her head. "She seems like a smart girl."

"She is." Alex admitted. "PhD and everything."

"Wow," Sara said, unsure of what they were doing, but it was better than having Alex wave his gun at her. She didn't want that. She wanted him to admit that he was wrong in what he was doing, but she knew what Clara had told them. He was being threatened.

"Didn't stop her from getting hurt," Alex mumbled and Sara leant further forward then, hands clasping together as Alex sunk down to the floor, resting against the floor as Sara watched him with intrigue.

"She's…what is she to you?" Sara dared to wonder. "Michael told me about your ex wife."

"She's…" Alex paused, picking his words carefully. "She's the only one who understands."

"Because you did it together?" Sara asked. "Was it after then when you started taking those things? I'd imagine if you're on those then she's on something pretty similar."

Alex shook his head. "She doesn't use," he said. "She takes sleeping pills sometimes."

"They can be just as dangerous," Sara declared. "She seemed like a good person and I don't blame her for wanting revenge. I don't blame her for wanting to kill the person who…who did that to her sister…"

"So if you know the truth," Alex said in a drawl, "why didn't Michael say anything about her in that tape he sent to every news station in the country?"

Sara shrugged then. "I don't know."

"You should know," Alex said, "because, I got to tell you, Dr Tancredi…I sure was glad."

Sara's eyes widened then. "You…you're relieved about that?"

He chuckled, brow arching as he raked a hand through his hair. "Shocked?" he asked from her. "Yeah, everyone seems to be shocked when I do something nice."

Saying nothing more, Sara could only look on in wonder at what he was hearing. Perhaps the man in front of her wasn't the monster he was made out to be. She knew full well that Michael would never forgive him for killing his father. She couldn't blame him for that. But there was something deeper to the man in front of her.

She had no option to ask him any further questions as she heard the phone on the table begin to ring. They both looked at it for a second before they moved with haste, scrambling towards it. Sara reached for it, but she missed as Alex pulled it from the table. Sara let him get the phone, but she rushed to the table where he had placed his gun. She took hold of it, aiming it at him.

Alex kept hold of the phone as it continued to ring, but then he saw the gun being pointed at him.

"Give me the phone," she demanded from him.

Sighing, he shook his head. "You don't want to do this."

"I think I do," Sara said, snatching the phone from his fingertips before backing out the room and rushing off.

Alex remained calm and collected, moving to his feet as he reached for his own cell, calling Lang.

"You got her?" he asked, hoping she was in the hotel by now.

"Got her," she said, "but listen, Alex, there's something that I need to tell you."

"What is it?" Alex enquired.

"Wheeler dragged…Clara…back to the field office," Lang said. "I don't know why, but he says there's something going on."

He resisted the urge to swear at that, instead demanding for Lang to follow Sara before he headed back to the office.

…

Pulling into the office, Alex heard from Lang how Sara had been captured, but she hadn't told them where Burrows and Scofield were. Alex hit the steering wheel at that news before climbing out of his car and locking it, anger still coursing through him. He suspected that feeling was only going to deepen once he saw Wheeler.

Storming into the office, Alex looked around and people got out of his way pretty fast. He let his feet hit the ground with haste before he saw her. Wheeler had his hand around her forearm, her hands behind her back and cuffed. Frowning, Alex came to stand before him before looking him in the eye, gaze harsh.

"What is this?" Alex demanded. "Did Sullins demand for you to arrest her?"

"Maybe," Wheeler said as Clara remained silent.

"He just came to my house and told me I needed to come in for questioning," Clara said to Alex.

"But then she got violent so I had no other option but to cuff her," Wheeler shrugged and Clara rolled her eyes as Alex took her other arm, pulling her from Wheeler's grip and hauling her towards him, her side pressed against his front.

"I thought that we dealt with all of this earlier?" Alex said. "So what? You're going over my head and…doing what? Arresting everyone I've been associated with? I'll tell you what, Wheeler, I'll give Pam a call, shall I? Ask her to come down? Or what about the woman who served me coffee this morning?"

Wheeler resisted the urge to roll his eyes at what he was hearing. He said nothing for a moment as the office emptied out at the sound of Mahone's angry tone. No one liked being around the agent when he was in a volatile mood.

"Sullins has been looking into your whereabouts," Wheeler admitted. "He found out you went to New Mexico, but then he found out that your little girlfriend here went with you."

"Excuse me," Clara said, agitation in her voice. "I have a name."

"So what?" Alex asked as both agents ignored Clara. "She came with me to New Mexico."

"We assume it was on federal business?" Wheeler said. "What the hell were you doing down there, Alex? And why the hell did you bring her with you?"

Shaking her head slowly, Clara wondered how he was going to wiggle out of this mess. But he didn't need to do anything. He was the one in charge. He was the one who called the shots around the office. He moved his hand out to Wheeler expectantly.

"Give me the key and I'll uncuff her," Alex said. "I went to New Mexico because I thought I had a lead on Scofield. I didn't. Clara came with me and stayed in a hotel."

"Why?"

"Do I need to explain myself to you?" Alex demanded, stepping closer towards Wheeler as Clara remained stood still and agitated. "No, I don't. I don't need to explain anything about my private life to you. If you are questioning my role in this office then I suggest you back off."

Wheeler remained silent for a second. "I need to question her."

"Why?" Clara snapped. "What is it? You want details of what we got up to? Or maybe I can give you the hotel room number?"

"I know there is something going on and so does Sullins," Wheeler said, his eyes set on Alex as he seemed to look at him with some form of knowing. It was as if he knew everything Alex had done. He didn't know if that was true. He only hoped it wasn't.

"You know nothing," Alex said in a low voice. "Now, give me the key to uncuff her."

"This isn't over, Alex."

"I think it is." Alex said as Wheeler handed him the key and went to remove the handcuffs from Clara's wrists.

Wheeler avoided looking at Alex then, praying to God that the agent didn't know anything more. He had been to see Franklin who had told him everything. It was then when he had told Sullins how Mahone had demanded that Franklin took his own life. Sullins was convinced that Wheeler needed to look deeper into everything. There was Shales, to begin with, and then there was this strange link with Clara Reynolds.

Wheeler was convinced that if he could break Clara down then he could have it all. He knew that Alex confided in her. He had to have confided in her to go to New Mexico. It was all too much of a coincidence for it not to be a plan.

"Come on," Alex said, grabbing hold of Clara by the hand and leading her out of the head office.

She felt ridiculous, dressed in her evening gown and flat shoes. Her hair flowed behind her shoulders as she let Alex lead her outside to the car park where the rental cars were parked. She said nothing further, choosing to keep silent as Alex kept her hand tightly inside of his.

"What did he ask you?" Alex asked of Clara once they were sat in his car and away from prying ears.

She moved her hands to her wrists, massaging them slowly. "He wanted to know why I was in New Mexico," Clara spoke. "He thinks that I know something about the escaped convicts and what has been happening to them. I don't know…I mean…I said nothing. I said that I just went to New Mexico with you because we saw it as a getaway. I don't think he believed it."

"I don't think he did either," Alex responded and Clara shrugged.

"I didn't know what else to say," she informed him. "He's digging, Alex. He's digging and if he keeps on digging then he's going to find out. He's going to find out what…what is going on…"

"No," Alex shook his head at her. "He's not going to find anything out…"

"He is," Clara said, shaking her head back and forth. "Because he is not going to let this drop. He brought up Shales again. He keeps talking about him."

"You need to calm down," Alex demanded of her, moving his hand back to take hold of her by the hand, his fingers once again holding tightly onto hers. "Clara, they're not going to find anything out about you."

"I don't care about me," Clara said with a shake of her head. "Alex, I'm scared for you, don't you get it?"

Shaking his head, he gulped as he felt Clara move in her seat, angling her body towards him as her hand went to take hold of his other arm. She looked him in the eye as Alex wondered what the hell was happening as she bowed her head.

"Let me take the fall for Shales," she whispered.

"No," Alex said firmly.

"I'm serious," she said to him. "If Wheeler continues with this then The Company can't stop him, can they? He has Internal Affairs on his side. Just listen to me, Alex…if they end up prosecuting you for the convicts then they have no proof and we both know that. But if they find the body in your back yard then they will know. That will be all the proof they need."

"And do you think they would believe you?" Alex wondered of her. "He is in my back yard, Clara."

"I'll say that you were out on business," Clara shrugged, "that I panicked and didn't know where to go."

"Don't be ridiculous," he told her and felt the grip on his arm tighten. "They'd never fall for it."

"They'd have no choice," she responded in a low voice. "I can't let you take the fall for something that I should have done and that is the end of it. If they keep on digging then I'll do it, Alex. I'll just hand myself in…fuck The Company."

"I won't let you," he said, his voice determined, "and that is the end of it. Now put your seatbelt on. I'm taking you home and you're going to forget this foolish plan of yours. Do you understand me?"

"No," Clara mumbled, releasing him from her grip as she put her seatbelt on. "But you can drive me home."

Alex felt his teeth grind together at the woman's stubbornness. He remained silent as he started the car and begun to drive her back home. It was only as he glanced over to her did he let his brow furrow at the sight of her. He let his eyes move down her body, taking in the black evening gown she wore as she stared out the window.

"Did Wheeler interrupt a date or something?" he mumbled, waving with one hand to the dress.

She looked down to her lap, pulling at the gown from her stomach. "No chance of that happening," she informed him. "I'm supposed to be flying out to LA on Friday night. It's my uncle's sixtieth birthday party and I said I would go. I don't know why…I hate parties."

"Hmm," was all Alex could grunt out in response.

"I might not bother going," Clara continued to speak. "I don't want the FBI Internal Affairs to think I'm fleeing from something."

"They're not going to bother you again."

"You promised that last time," Clara reminded him. "And he hauled me in…plus he cuffed me, the jumped up bastard."

Alex chuckled at hearing that. "Why did he cuff you?"

"Because I told him that I wouldn't go with him," she shrugged at Alex. "I went back into the house and he grabbed my arm. I sort of freaked out and started to hit at him. I didn't…well…I remembered the last time someone had grabbed me in my own house."

Nodding, Alex seemed to understand what she was saying as he took a left turn.

"So what do we do?" Clara asked and Alex wondered why she always felt the need to talk. "Do we just go on as if nothing has happened?"

"For the time being," Alex nodded. "Sullins won't find anything concrete on me for a while…if at all."

"And if he does?" Clara wondered of him.

"Then I'm…I don't know," Alex admitted to her. "For the time being I'm going home and I'm going to try and find out where Scofield could have gotten to."

"Did he escape?" Clara wondered and Alex nodded.

"Once again," he spoke in a defeated tone.

They lapsed into silence then before Alex pulled up outside of her house. Taking the key out the ignition, he rested it in his fingertips in his lap before speaking.

"Go to LA," he urged Clara before she left the vehicle. "Get away from all of this for a weekend. It won't hurt."

"I guess not," Clara said. "Just promise me that you'll stay in touch, okay? If anything happens…or…or if Wheeler comes and decides to drag me in."

"Will do," Alex assured her, watching as she moved tentatively then, her hand going to give his arm one final squeeze before she left the car and made her way up to her house.

Alex watched her go, unable to take his eyes from her form in the black dress. He knew it was only a matter of time now. Sullins would be onto him in less than two weeks, he suspected. He had two weeks to find a way out of this mess.

...

A/N: If anyone is reading then please do let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter 12

Alex knew that he was slowly losing the plot. He had been locked away in the basement of his house. It had always acted as a study for him. It had been somewhere he could go and lock himself away. He would bury himself in his work while Pam and Cameron would be upstairs, obliviously unaware of the horrors he witnessed. That was where he was when Agent Lang found him.

"Alex," she spoke his name, seeing him peering at the wall.

Her eyes widened as she looked to the sight before her. The entire wall was filled to the brim with photos of Michael Scofield's tattoos and random scribbling on notes. She didn't know what to say and so she let her mouth hang open, her eyes scrunching up as she saw Alex. He was dressed in a black jumper and jeans; sweat trickling down his forehead. His hands were alternating between pushing his glasses onto his nose and running through his hair.

"Lang," he said in a grunt.

"What is this?" Lang asked, her voice hesitant as she stepped further into the room.

Pulling photos from the wall, he thrust them into her fingertips and began explaining what he was showing her.

"These are the photos we recovered from Scofield's hardrive," he explained to her, pointing down to the sketches. "See here…these tattoos aren't actually on his body. I think he had this planned and this is the final part to his plan. Look…we thought this was Allen Schewitzer."

Lang tried to keep up with him as he spoke with haste.

"It was the first tattoo…but look at this little symbol here. It's alpha. How's your Greek alphabet, Lang?"

"Rusty," she said, her tone dry as she spoke and Mahone let himself chuckle at hearing her as he handed her another photo of the sketch and she looked to it, noticing the small symbol as she arched a brow at him. "Beta?"

"Beta," he nodded. "And then the final one…Omega."

"What is it?" Lang wondered as he handed her another photo.

"No idea," Alex shrugged. "It's just a photo of Jesus Christ in a rose."

"And the number underneath it?"

"617," Alex read out. "It's the date…the 17th June."

"That's…in what…two days?"

"Less," Alex responded, looking Lang in the eye as she watched him back with intrigue, her eyes taking in his appearance and she did her best to bite her tongue. She knew that saying something to him might set him off. She had seen people deal with his temper in the office when they had said something wrong.

"So what now?"

"We find out what it means," Alex said to her. "Take this to the office and get started. Try to figure out what the sketch means and I will be in soon. I need to shower and change. Tell Wheeler that-"

"-You don't know, do you?" Lang interrupted at the mention of Wheeler.

Alex let his brows furrow as he listened to Lang. He had always had a mutual respect for the woman. She was a good agent, dedicated to doing her job and making sure everything was safe. She remained mute for a second, peering over to the wall again and avoiding Alex's gaze. It took a moment before she spoke, chewing down on her lip as she weighed her words.

"Wheeler has been going off and out of the office for the past week," Lang said. "He will come and go, but I saw something on his desk the other day. He's…he's digging."

"Yeah," Alex scoffed, hands going to the back of his head as he turned to look back at the wall. "Tell me something I don't know."

"No," Lang said with a shake of her head. "He's looking into her…your…well…whatever she is."

Alex's brow furrowed then as he turned his head over his shoulder to look at Lang. The woman sighed, hands moving to her hips as she held them in her grip tightly. She shrugged her shoulders at him as Alex realised who she was talking about. He shook his head with haste.

"Why is he so obsessed with her?" Alex demanded.

"Because he thinks she is harbouring some dark secrets of yours," Lang responded. "He thinks that if he can crack her then he can get to you. Listen, Alex, I don't know what is going on. I don't know what he is looking into really…and I don't want to know. All I know is that I saw him with a file on her on his desk. He…she bought a gun a month before Shales disappeared off your radar."

Alex kept his gaze on the wall, closing his eyes as Lang watched him, clearly trying to weigh him up herself. He hoped she was failing miserably as he felt himself begin to sweat even more. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. Did he tell her? If he told her then he incriminated himself. He knew that.

"He thinks that I'm involved," Alex said, his mouth dry. "He thinks that if she bought the gun…then I'm involved."

"I don't know," Lang said again. "I don't know what he thinks, Alex, but you were in charge of the case. We're not saying you know anything about what Clara Reynolds did to Shales…but…you've got to admit that it looks suspicious. You end up with her after everything that happened?"

Alex was about to say that hadn't been what had happened, but he couldn't say it. He kept quiet instead, knowing that silence was best on the matter. All he could do was swallow and hope that Lang wasn't working him out. He had promised Clara that Wheeler wouldn't get anything on her. But he was digging. He was digging and if he had found out that Clara had bought a gun then he would trace her movements.

It would only be a matter of time before he found her. When he found her then he found Alex. Alex would tell the truth. Clara would tell the truth. Both of them would be pleased to do that, he suspected. Then again, Alex worried what The Company might do if Wheeler got to the truth before he finished his job for them. Would Pam and Cameron be safe? Alex didn't know what do. If he told Clara to flee then she would look guilty.

But if she stayed then she could face a prison sentence. It was her choice. Alex knew that.

"Alex, if there is anything you need to talk about then you know I'm here," Lang said, taking one step towards him, her hand outstretched before she let it rest on top of his arm. He nodded at her.

"I'm fine," he told her, sniffing loudly. "Let Wheeler do what he needs to do. He'll find nothing."

Lang dropped her hand from him, watching as he turned on his heel and began to leave his basement. She suspected he wasn't entirely telling her the truth that she wanted to hear.

…

Meeting Alex in the diner around the corner from headquarters was not what Clara had planned that evening. She had finished work and gone about tidying up her office, handing in the paperwork to the office administrator before they left. She had done her best to forget about Alex and Wheeler, but that was easier said than done.

Clara walked in, dressed in a short black dress with thick black tights. Her hair was scraped off her face, tied in a loose ponytail as the waves fell down her back. She looked around for a second before seeing him sat in the corner. Moving towards him, she offered him a solemn nod before settling down on the seat opposite, her hands going to the coffee he had ordered her.

"What is it?" Clara wondered, not bothering with pleasantries. They were both beyond that stage now. Her brow arched as Alex coughed once.

It was then when she saw he had a suitcase with him, sat at the side. He was dressed in a plain black top, khaki-coloured trousers on his legs and a dark thin coat on his shoulders. It was a different look compared to his usual suits. She furrowed her brow at seeing him before he looked her in the eye.

"Wheeler knows," he said in a low voice, but she shook her head.

"You said he wouldn't find out," she hissed at him, leaning forwards as Alex shrugged.

"He's doing his job," he said. "I envy him. He's ambitious…but…but he's doing the right thing. If I were him then I would be doing the same, Clara. I know that…but…but he knows about Abruzzi…Apolskis…he…he knows about Shales. They're doing a test on the soil in my back yard. They have footage to place us together in a car on the drive back from your sister's house. They're going to find out."

Clara took a deep breath, bowing her head as she looked down to the table. Alex moved his hand over the table, taking one of her hands from the coffee cup she was holding. His fingers engulfed hers as he heard her sniff loudly. For all of her talk of handing herself in, he knew that she would be like this when push came to shove. The idea of being locked up was enough to make anyone want to weep.

"So what do we do?" Clara pulled herself together, looking back over to Alex.

"The Company want me to finish the job," Alex informed her. "They want me to go to Panama and find Theodore Bagwell. I don't know why and I didn't bother to ask them why, but I'm heading out tonight. I have a flight booked."

"So…so you're leaving?" Clara wondered, her brows knitting together as Alex wondered if he was doing the right thing.

"I am," he told her, "and you're coming with me."

She blinked then as Alex moved to sit next to her on the bench so that no one could overhear them. Moving his arm over the back of the seat, he looked around as he spoke, voice low and controlled as Clara angled her upper body to face him.

"The Company want you in Panama," he told her. "They think that you're a liability here."

"Why?" Clara asked and Alex shrugged.

"I don't know," he admitted to her. "There's someone higher up than me who seems to be all for protecting you and I don't know why, Clara. Do you know anyone who would want to do that?"

Scoffing, Clara shook her head. "No," she said. "I don't have any family, except for my uncle who I see once a year. He works in some technology company…and then there's Tom. He's an architect, for goodness sake."

Nodding, Alex seemed to accept what she was saying, but she wasn't accepting what he was telling her. She seemed to go into a trance, her brows rising on her forehead. She was doing her best to think of anyone in her family who could be part of this mysterious Company, but no one came to mind. All she could do was shake her head at Alex.

"No," she said. "There is no one."

"There has to be," Alex said. "Why else would it make sense for them to protect you?"

"Protect me?" Clara echoed his words back to him. "If there is someone in this ridiculous conspiracy theory then they haven't protected me very well, have they? I mean…look at me…they've threatened Tom…tortured me…"

"But they haven't killed you," Alex said, his voice low as Clara scoffed.

"I'd guess that was the next step," she informed him, "but I'm not running anymore, Alex. I'm staying here. I'm going to face up to what we did if Agent Wheeler comes for me."

"That would mean giving me up," Alex said and she shook her head at him.

"No," she said. "I'll tell them I shot him and…and you found me when it was too late. Or I can leave you out of it. Just tell me what you want, Alex."

"None of that," Alex whispered, peering down to his lap before he moved to take hold of her hand, squeezing it tightly in his grip as she looked to him and he moved his gaze back to her. "I want you to come to Panama and I want you to disappear. They…apparently they can make this indictment go away, Clara. Agent Kim, the man who I deal with, told me that. He told me that if you left then it would all go away."

"How?" Clara asked him. "How can they keep burying what we did or what you have been forced to do?"

"Because they run everything," Alex told her.

"But there will always be someone, like Wheeler, who wants the truth. And yes, they can kill him to keep him quiet, but there will always be someone after him who also wants the truth."

"Then they kill them," Alex said with a shrug, keeping hold of her hand. "It is a chain, Clara. It is a chain that they will never break."

"And what are you doing?" Clara asked of him.

"Running," he mumbled. "Hence why I have the suitcase with me. I'm going to Panama and I'm going to call Pam and…I want her to come out with me…I want her to be with me."

Clara rolled her eyes at hearing that, pulling her hand from his and turning to face forwards. "So you intend to drag her into this mess?"

"I don't care what you think, Clara," Alex declared and she scoffed.

"That's good," Clara said with a sharp tone. "Because I think you're an idiot. Your wife has a life up here. She has a life that doesn't involve running away from the FBI and their investigations. You have a son…what? You want to take him with you and be watching over your shoulder every two minutes?"

Alex shook his head, feeling anger take over him at what he was hearing from her. She moved then, trying to push Alex out of the booth so that she could leave, but he grabbed hold of her by the wrist, holding onto it tightly to keep her in her place as he brought his face closer to hers, his voice a hiss as he spoke.

"Everything I have done has been for my family. If I go to Panama then I want them with me. I love them."

"Yeah," Clara nodded, "but if you love someone you don't subject them to a life on the run."

"And you'd know?" Alex wondered from her. "Look at you, Clara, you have no one. You have no one worth fighting for...no one who would fight for you."

Clara felt her rage boil over then as she moved her hand behind her body. She pushed it forwards, her palm flat in front of her as she allowed it to make contact with Alex's cheek. He hadn't been expecting it, the sound ricocheting off the walls as people turned to look at them. Clara watched him grab hold of his stinging flesh before she pushed him to the end of the seat and she clambered over him.

Bending at the waist, she spoke in a harsh tone down to him as he looked at her with shock. "I get it, Alex, thanks. I'm alone…I get it. I don't need you to remind me. Just know that there is a chance that your face will soon be plastered on TV along with mine on an FBI most wanted list."

He said nothing to her as he watched her storm off, her bag swaying on her hip as she slammed the door to the diner open. Alex remained seated where he was for a second, his cheek still aching as everyone went back to their own business, talking amongst themselves and no doubt gossiping about what they had just seen.

…

Clara didn't drive straight home that evening. Instead she was thinking about what Alex had just said to her. She had gone around the streets of Chicago before driving out to the suburbs. He was right. She had no one who was willing to fight for her. She had seen the way he would do anything for Pam. She had no one like that: not now.

Pulling into her driveway, Clara barely noticed the car parked on the side of the road. Climbing from the vehicle, she locked it before the other car door opened. Clara peered over to where the noise came from, eyes widening as soon as she saw him move out. Her mouth gaped as her arms folded over her chest.

"Tom," she said and he offered her a small nod.

He had his hands stuffed into his front jean's pockets. He wore a blue checked shirt and leather jacket. His face had barely aged, except for a couple of grey hairs in his blond locks, there was nothing different about him. His strong jaw was set and his blue eyes were darting around, almost as if he couldn't look at Clara.

"Clara," he responded with her name and she moved over the lawn to where he stood on the sidewalk, still peering down nervously.

"How…how are things going?" she felt lame even asking him the question, but she didn't know what else to say to him.

"Honestly?" he wondered back from her, "not great."

"What's up?" she asked.

"Listen, I wouldn't come here unless I was desperate," he said, the words stinging her slightly more than she cared to admit as she let out a nod of her head. "But I need my share of the house. I took a job over in Florida and it…well…it hasn't gone as well as I had hoped it would."

"Oh," Clara said with a nod of her head. "Yeah, well I have been looking at places close to the university."

She felt foolish now. Would she even have the chance to buy a new place? Would she even need one? She didn't know. She suspected she would end the month in a jail cell of some description if the FBI Internal Affairs found out what she had been hiding with Alex. She had no sense of running to Panama. She didn't want to run anymore. She was tired of hiding.

"I see," Tom said. "You see, the thing is…I kind of need the money soon."

"Right," Clara said. "Well, over the weekend I can go and check out some apartments and then we-"

"-You're not listening," Tom said, interrupting her with a shake of his head before he extended an arm, flailing it in frustration. "You never did listen…always too keen on the sound of your own voice."

Clara knew that there was something off with Tom. He was talking to her in that condescending tone he usually used when he didn't want to explain things properly to her. He would always snap and blame her for not understanding what he was talking about, despite fact she tried to understand.

"Okay," Clara said, holding her hands in front of her. "Listen, I don't know what more I can do, Tom."

"I need the money by the weekend, Clara," he informed her. "I mean; I technically own half of this house. I could claim my half back any time. I came here to be polite to you…to tell you that you needed to get out by the end of the week."

Clara looked shocked as she pointed at herself. "And I also own the other half," she reminded him, "so you cannot chuck me out and sell it without my approval."

"I'm asking nicely, Clara," Tom said.

Waving a hand, any initial feeling of joy she had felt at seeing the man before her disappeared. Instead she shrugged her shoulders and motioned to the house.

"I've had a long day," she told him and ignored the roll of his eyes. "I'm going to go and sleep. We can talk about whatever money issues you've got tomorrow. Okay?"

Clara turned on her heel, beginning to move towards the house, but Tom had other ideas. Moving his hand to grab hold of her wrist, he stopped her from going anywhere, the grip tight and punishing as he stood before her, his other hand going to the back of her neck, gripping tightly onto it as Clara bent her head back slightly, trying to ease the pain as his fingers gripped her hair.

"Just listen to me, Clara," he urged of her.

"Get off of me," Clara demanded of him. "I'm serious, Tom…get off…"

"I need the money," he said, his voice turning to one of desperation. "What part of that don't you understand? I need the money and I need it now."

"Just get off," Clara said, ignoring his pleas, but that only seemed to spur him as he moved his hand up her wrist and to her upper arm, his grip brutal against her flesh.

"No," Tom said in a short snap. "Now listen to me, Clara, you will-"

"-What the hell is going on here?"

Clara had thought that Tom would release her at the noise of the new voice. She hadn't seen him park his car behind Tom's, nor had she heard him open the door and move over to them. He was stood to the side of them as Tom turned to look at him, brow arching.

"Nothing that concerns you," Tom spoke and Clara felt his hand move from her neck, but he kept his hand on her arm. It was only as Tom stared closer, scrutinising the man before him did he let out a dark chuckle, remembering exactly who he was.

"Alexander Mahone," he spoke, letting out a low whistle. "So what was it? My fiancée goes all loopy…you feel sorry for her and the next thing you're in bed with her? I guess that would explain why you're here."

Alex neither confirmed nor denied the accusations. All he did was move his hands to his hips and then nod his head in the direction of the hand that was wrapped around Clara's arm in a vice like grip.

"I think you should let her go," Alex said to him.

"I'm not hurting her," Tom said defensively and Alex moved forwards then, going toe to toe with Tom and looking at him, an intimidating stare focused on him.

"I think you are," Alex spoke. "Now let her go."

"Were you fucking her while you were working on her dead sister's case?" Tom asked, his voice lacking any sympathy as Clara felt rage boil inside of her then. Before she had a chance to lash out, Alex was there in a second.

Moving to grab Tom's free arm, he twisted it behind his back and Tom grunted in pain as Alex moved to kick him in the back of his knee, making him fall to his knees as Alex bent, still holding onto his arm.

"I suggest you get out of here," Alex said, his voice threatening as he spoke in Tom's ear and Clara stood back, looking away from the sight. "And don't bother her again."

Tom said nothing further as Alex released his arm. Standing up, Tom looked between Alex and Clara before pointing to the woman he would have married. She folded her arms, almost looking worried at the mad gleam in his eye. He backed away to his car as he shouted.

"I will get my money, Clara," he told her. "I will be back."

"Stay away, Tom, or next time I call the police," Clara declared as Tom jumped into the car and went, not once looking back.

Clara could see curtains twitching across the road as she looked to Alex and then shook her head, not wanting to spend too long talking with him. Instead she merely kept her tone curt.

"Thank you," she said, "but I could have dealt with him on my own."

"I don't doubt it," Alex shrugged before looking down the street. "So…you were worried about The Company killing that guy? Sounds to me like they would be doing you a favour."

He didn't raise a smile from her. Instead she remained frowning as she watched Alex.

"He wasn't always like that," Clara whispered. "Just like you weren't always like this, I'd guess."

Alex could say nothing about that as he watched her head to the back yard. Following her, he remained behind her shoulder as he spoke.

"What I said in the diner was wrong," he declared, his voice open and honest with her. "I should have been…I wasn't very nice and I apologise for that."

"What do you want?" Clara wondered from him and Alex scratched the back of his neck as he came to her back yard, the porch light turning on and detecting their movements. "I thought that you should be on a flight to Panama by now?"

"So did I," Alex said, "but I couldn't do it. I couldn't go without apologising. I know…I know things between us have been difficult, especially with Wheeler suddenly poking his nose. But…that night you came to the field office and asked me to coffee…you…I don't know, Clara…"

"I'm still not coming, Alex," Clara said with a firm shake of her head. "I'm not running anymore."

"You've been running here," he responded. "For the past year we have both been running. When have you not been looking over your shoulder? This is a chance at a fresh start for both of us. Someone in that organisation has offered you a chance at a new life."

"And I want to know why they would do that," Clara agreed with him. "But I know what the people in this organisation are like. I don't trust them. I would rather rot in a jail cell than have anything to do with them."

Shaking his head, Alex stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he looked at her apologetically. "I'm going to do the job and disappear," he told her. "Scofield has money and a boat he commissioned in Panama. I'll get them for The Company and then I'm gone. I'm disappearing. I can't face life in jail…not when I have a family."

Shrugging, Clara knew there was no point in bringing up this subject again. Instead she just looked down to the ground.

"If they come then I'll tell them that I did it."

"No," Alex said with a solemn shake of his head. "Just tell them the truth, Clara. Don't make up any more lies for me. You've done more than enough for me. You've done more than you could have ever imagined."

"So this is it?" Clara asked.

"It's looking like it," he informed her with a nod of his head. "If there is nothing I can do to persuade you to come with me?"

"I want to," Clara said. "I want the chance at a new life…really…and if you can get it then make sure you do…but…I can't live like this. I can't live always worrying about a knock on the door."

Alex could say nothing further as he moved closer to her, his hand slowly moving towards her cheek. He cupped it tenderly as he saw the fear in her eyes. He knew she was being brave by facing up to things, but he knew that behind many brave actions there was an element of fear. He watched as she closed her eyes and he moved his thumb over her cheekbone before letting his hand tuck her hair behind her ear.

"Take care of yourself, Clara," he urged of her, bending down to press his lips against her cheek.

"You too, Alex," she responded in a small voice.

He released her then, moving out of her yard as she remained stood there, her eyes focused on him as she watched him go. He shut the gate and she felt something wet on her cheek. Her fingers moved to the corner of her eyes and she wondered why she was even crying. She tried to tell herself not to be ridiculous before going inside.

She locked the doors to the house and wandered inside. Moving to the fridge, she pulled out a bottle of wine before she heard a knock on the door. Flinching, she tried to shake off the feeling she felt when she heard the noise. Moving to the door, she opened the wood, half expecting to see Alex there. But he had gone. Instead there was a man in a suit, two other men behind him.

"Can I help you?" Clara asked of him.

He looked at her with beady eyes, his black hair neatly coiffed back on his head. "Ms Reynolds, we need you to come with us."

"Excuse me?" Clara demanded from him, keeping hold of the door, the wood tight in her grip.

"No harm will come to you, Ms Reynolds. We simply need to ask you a few questions regarding an email you received the other day."

Clara shrugged. "I haven't received an email," she informed him. "I mean, I receive hundreds of emails, but that's not unusual. I haven't received anything suspicious. What are you looking for?"

The man shot her a look to ask if she was being serious. She half expected that glance.

"Just come with us, Ms Reynolds, and we will confiscate your laptop."

"I don't think so," Clara said, but he was already pushing into her house, the other two men following as Clara stood aside.

"Hey!" she snapped as they began searching her living room for her laptop.

It was then when Clara knew she could either make a run for it or stay put and watch them trash her house. She knew which option sounded more viable. Picking up her satchel she had left by the door, she moved with haste, leaving the front door open as she ran to her car, unlocking it in time to hear the men call after her.

She climbed in and started the engine, reversing manically out of the driveway and onto the street as the men in suits chased after her. Pushing the gear into drive, Clara sped off as one of them moved his hand to wrap around the handle to the door. He fell as she continued to speed away, refusing to slow down as she looked over her shoulder.

Gulping lowly, Clara wondered what they had been talking about. She knew they had no chance of finding her laptop as she had left it in the office. She could have a chance to check her emails as soon as she found somewhere with internet. She drove into the city, pulling into a internet café. Running inside, she paid for use of a computer and took a seat.

She looked around, wondering she wanted to know what the email was. Surely these people could have deleted it from her inbox if they wanted to without her computer? Clara thought so. If they could do that then they must have known she hadn't read it. Of course, these people liked to be certain. Logging onto her email, she found nothing out of the ordinary and shook her head.

Moving away from the café, Clara knew that going home was not an option. They would be there and she didn't trust them when they said that they wouldn't be waiting for her. And so Clara went to the only place she could think of.

…

He was seated in the departure lounge, waiting to fly out when he saw her. It was first thing in the morning and the sun was slowly rising. He stood up as he heard the gate number being called when he saw her on the other end of the seating area. She was stood with her hands in front of her, her bag by her side. She had nothing else and she still wore the clothes from the evening before.

Moving towards her, he tossed his bag over his shoulder as the queue at the gate behind her grew. He ignored that for a moment, not desperate to queue and spend longer than he had to on the plane. Instead he moved to her and was shocked when he saw the tears in her eyes. He was even more shocked at his own reaction and hers too.

He dropped his bag to the floor, his arms automatically moving around her as hers went around his torso, her fingers knotting together and resting on his back as her cheek buried against his chest. Moving a hand to the back of her head, he held it gently as he noticed people watching them, but he failed to care what they were whispering.

"They came," Clara whispered. "Three of them came to my house when you had left. They said I had an email and they wanted me to go with them…I didn't know what they were on about…but I couldn't go…not with them…not again."

Alex nodded at what he was hearing from her as she looked up to him and he moved his thumbs to wipe her tears from her eyes as she took hold of his wrists as he made the motion. The look in her eyes was full of desperation.

"I want to do the right thing," she told him, "but I'm scared they'll get to me first."

"Then come with me," Alex urged of her. "Get on this plane and leave it all behind."

Shaking her head, Clara kept her hands on his wrists. "But everything has changed," she whispered to him. "They think I have something…some email…would they let me leave now without…I don't know…killing me?"

"I don't know," Alex admitted to her, "but just come with me and I'll keep you safe. I won't let them get to you."

"And Pam?" Clara asked of him. "Alex, you can't look out for me all of the time."

"I can," he protested to her. "You bought a ticket, Clara. That must tell you something. You want to get away from this and I will make sure it happens."

Clara didn't know whether to believe him or not, but he held his hand out towards her and she took it, looking behind her and wondering just what she was leaving behind.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think!


	13. Chapter 13

Landing in Panama, Alex waited in his seat on the plane for Clara. She had taken a spot four rows behind him and was currently stuck in the window seat, waiting for people to move down the aisle and leave. She thanked herself for being so organised and keeping her passport in her bag at all times. Picking the satchel up from beneath the chair in front of her, she swung it onto her shoulder before standing and moving to the aisle.

Looking down the rows of seats, she saw Mahone, his arm over the back of a seat as he stood up, one leg bent and resting on the chair as he watched her. Offering her a slim smile, he held his arm in front of him, letting her go in front of him as they left the plane. The heat hit Clara hard and she instantly wished she could remove the tights from her legs, but she didn't. She didn't want people to ask questions about the scars.

"So what's the plan?" Clara dared to ask of Alex as they moved into the terminal.

"The Company want Theodore Bagwell captured alive," Alex spoke. "I don't know why. I sent a message to Scofield on this website that the crooks use to contact each other telling him that Bagwell was in Panama. I'm hoping that lures him out of hiding."

"Why would it do that?" Clara enquired of him.

"Because Bagwell has the cash," he said. "He has the cash that Scofield discovered from D.B. Cooper…plus I think I know Scofield…he doesn't like the idea of a man like Bagwell being on the streets."

Clara nodded, looking down for a moment as they stood in the queue at passport control. "I heard about what he did," she informed him. "So you're going after him?"

"The Company have agents watching him," Alex informed her. "I'm here for the brothers and the money."

"To disappear with," Clara confirmed and Alex nodded.

"Yeah," Alex said.

They lapsed into silence then, going through the controls and then waiting for Alex's suitcase. He walked outside, wheeling the case behind him before he saw Clara begin to sweat, no doubt with thanks to those thick tights she wore on her legs. Saying nothing, he watched her with intrigue as he hailed a cab outside, wondering exactly what was running through her mind.

Holding the door to the car open, Alex instructed the driver to take them to Panama City before sliding in, shutting the door and pulling out his cell. Clara looked out the window, her eyes set on the scenery as they left the airport behind. She felt her mouth gape slightly as Alex spoke on the phone, his tone full of hope and adoration.

No doubt he was speaking to Pam. Clara tried not to eavesdrop, but he was telling her how he had one last job to do and then he was finished with the bureau. He told her how he would make things right. He told her how he would do everything possible to get her back. It was enough to make Clara want to either cry with envy or yell at him for being foolish.

Instead she did neither. She kept her eyes focused on the window as Alex made another call, no doubt to the men who were watching Bagwell. She looked on as they drove down a road in the middle of sand surrounded by blue water and Alex hung up his call before speaking to Clara.

"They have eyes on Bagwell," he informed her. "He's hiding in some swanky hotel. When we arrive in Panama City I'll check you into a hotel and you can wait there until this is all over."

"How long before they find out I'm with you?" Clara enquired from him. "You know as well as I do that they'll find out I caught a flight to Panama soon."

"I know," Alex agreed. "Hopefully by the time they find out this will all be done and we both won't have to deal with them anymore."

Clara chuckled darkly. "Isn't that the dream," she muttered and Alex studied her face before broaching the subject he wanted to discuss with her about the previous night.

"So, Tom," he said, not needing to add anything further for Clara to know what he was getting at. Nodding her head, Clara took a deep breath and turned to look at Alex, shrugging her shoulders as she did so.

"He's in trouble," she said. "I think it's some kind of money trouble. He wanted me to move out so he could take his half of the house. Of course, if he had asked me nicely I would have bought him out. I have enough money."

"I take it he didn't ask nicely?" Alex continued.

"Not entirely," she said, her voice a mutter.

"He shouldn't have hurt you like he did," Alex said. "That wasn't right of him."

Clara wanted to laugh at that, but she kept silent instead. Looking down to her lap, she let her fingers lace together as she felt her forehead continue to grow wet, the heat taking its toll on her.

"He…sometimes he could be forceful," Clara said. "I never thought anything of it really, but speaking of…well…you know…I shouldn't have slapped you yesterday. I'm sorry for doing it. I should have just yelled at you."

Moving his hand to his cheek, Alex rubbed it and offered her a slim smile. "You have got one mean slapping hand on you," he informed her, drawing a smile onto her own lips as he watched her and then shrugged his shoulders. "But I deserved it. What I said wasn't nice."

"But it was true," she responded.

"Not entirely," he answered back without missing a beat. "You do have someone who cares. You know that."

He saw her lips quirk upwards then and he couldn't help but notice the small dimples in her cheeks that appeared whenever she made the motion. How had he not noticed those before? He suspected he didn't notice because she hadn't had much to smile about recently. He remained mute, watching as Clara went back to looking out the window.

He found it odd how a woman like her had been with a man like Tom. She was too kind for someone like him. How had she not found someone who matched her? Perhaps she had an attraction for people who were wrong for her? He had heard horror stories about that. He remained mute for a few more moments before his cell began to ring.

"What? Where? Yes…follow them…five minutes."

Hanging up, Alex found Clara watching him again, that questioning gaze back on her face.

"They're on the move," he informed her, his foot tapping on the floor as they entered Panama City and Alex gave directions to the cab driver.

It took a few more minutes before the cab stopped and the pair of them climbed out of the vehicle. Clara looked around, her hand going to her forehead as she blocked out the sun and Alex asked the cab driver to take his suitcase on to a hotel, tossing him some notes to cover the cost.

"Get back in and go with him," Alex urged her.

"No," Clara challenged him. "I'll lay low somewhere, but I am not going back to that hotel. If The Company are putting you up there then they might find out I am there. I'd rather not take that risk."

Alex huffed, his arms flapping by his side, but he nodded and beckoned for her to hurry up. Clara followed Alex down the busy street, looking around for any sign of something off. It took a moment before Alex grabbed hold of her by the arm, dragging her into a doorway of some kind as he watched passers by on the sidewalk that was covered with stunning flowers and green plants.

And then he saw him. Bagwell and Scofield moved past him, but there was also Brad and someone who looked surprisingly like Sucre. Alex wondered what the hell they were all doing before he moved a hand to Clara's arm, dragging her attention away from the scenery.

"Stay here," he demanded from her. "I'm going after them."

She began to say something, but Alex didn't have time to hear what it was. Instead he was among the crowd of people, walking down the street. Clara peered out from the hiding spot she was in. She could make out Alex's head moving down the street, bobbing amongst others. It was busy on the sidewalk and she did her best to peer into the distance and see if she could spot Scofield.

She failed miserably, instead her eyes caught the sight of a burly man dressed in a white top with a blue shirt over it, his bald head covered with a surface of sweat. Frowning, Clara watched as he moved across the street and then straight towards Alex. Moving from her hiding spot, Clara pushed people out of her way as she looked around to where Alex had been before she had moved. She couldn't see anything.

Turning on the spot, Clara soon heard a loud grunt and she saw a building to the side, the gates smashed in. Moving into the building, she screamed at the sight she saw. Alex was on the floor, Lincoln Burrows above him, his fist hammering against Alex's face. Clara moved then, trying to help Alex as she hit at Lincoln's back.

Her presence threw him off guard as Alex grabbed hold of his leg, dragging him down to the floor before he could kick him. Both men fell onto their backs and Clara stood in the middle of them, her hands stretched to the side to stop them from getting back up and hitting each other.

"Stop it," she demanded. "One of you is going to get killed."

"That's the idea," Lincoln said, pushing himself to his feet as both of them began to move in circles and Clara struggled to keep her eye on both of them. Groaning in frustration, she watched as Alex wiped his nose and she was shocked he hadn't broken it after Lincoln's pummelling.

"You're not going to like how this ends in that case, Lincoln," Alex said to him and Clara shook her head, knowing exactly what Alex was talking about.

"Both of you…just stop," she said, her gaze moving to Lincoln. "I know what he has done. I know about everything-"

"-Michael said you did," Lincoln said, spitting on the ground besides him before looking to Clara and standing still while Alex did the same. "He said that you defended the bastard."

"They have his family," Clara told Lincoln.

"And he took mine," Lincoln informed her and Clara frowned as Lincoln chuckled, glancing across to Alex for a moment. "So he didn't tell you that, did he?"

"That was an accident," Alex said with a shrug. "Your father was an accident. I hadn't aimed for him…and you were shooting at me. I am just doing what I can to get my life back, don't you understand that?"

"By taking other people's?" Lincoln asked and then pointed to Clara. "What are you doing bringing her with you, anyway, Alex? You ruined your own life so you thought that you would ruin hers?"

"I make my own choices," Clara snapped, refusing to be spoken about in such a manner. "Besides, I need to talk to your brother. Does he know anything about an email?"

Lincoln nodded his head. "Yeah, we sent a copy to you because we thought that you had been a journalist."

"Well, whatever was on that email probably isn't there anymore. Some guys in suits turned up and demanded my laptop and asked me to go with them for questioning."

"So they're after you too, huh?" Lincoln asked and Alex felt his palm twitch, knowing that he needed to do something before these two became too friendly with each other.

"I don't know," Clara shrugged. "Apparently there's someone in The Company who is looking out for me…but I didn't trust them so I didn't go with them. I ran and came here with Alex."

"Why?" Lincoln wondered back. "I mean, I know what you did. Michael told me about the murderer and your sister and what happened. I don't blame you for that…I don't blame you for wanting revenge. I'd have wanted it too. But this? This is bigger than that."

Clara gulped and nodded before turning to glance over at Alex. He shot her an agitated look before she let herself go back to staring at Lincoln, the man placing his hands on his hips as he waited expectantly for an answer from her. But she didn't have an answer. She didn't know how any of this had happened really. One moment she was living a relatively normal life and the next she was on the run in Panama.

"Initially The Company wanted me dead," Clara said, trying to delay the two men from fighting, hoping that they could both see sense eventually. "They wanted me dead because of what Alex and I had done. They thought that I was a liability…that I could go to the police any moment and tell them what we had done. If I did that then Alex wouldn't be able to do his job."

"What? Killing everyone in his path?" Lincoln asked, voice low and harsh as Alex pointed a finger in his direction, his head bowed in defeat.

"You have no idea," he said in a whisper as Clara continued to speak.

"But then they decided not to try to kill me. They could buy my silence by threatening my ex fiancé and it worked…it worked and that was how they bought Alex's silence. They threatened his wife and son to do what they said or else they would be hurt," Clara continued, but nothing she said was making any difference to Lincoln. "Anyway, it all got out of hand when I went to New Mexico."

"Michael said you bumped into him there," Lincoln confirmed.

"The Company found out I had been to New Mexico and they…they thought that I might have known something I shouldn't," she informed him. "They took it upon themselves to find out what that was."

Lincoln observed her for a minute before he saw her look down to the ground. He moved his gaze over to Alex, the agent shifting from one foot to the other, clearly looking uncomfortable with what she had just said. Whatever The Company had done to her had not been pleasant.

"Look," Lincoln said with his hands held in defence, "Michael said you seemed like a pleasant enough person. He…we both don't know how you ended up in this mess with him…and how you can defend him after everything he has done is just wrong."

"I don't need her to defend me," Alex said, moving forwards again as Clara saw the rage inside of his gaze. "I just need this to be over."

Clara tried to grab hold of Alex's arm as he stormed past her, moving towards Lincoln again. The agent tried to grab hold of him as Clara stood back, the grunts coming from both of them as they punched at each other enough to make her cover her mouth in horror. It took a few moments before Alex moved, his arm wrapping around Lincoln's throat as the man fell to his knees.

"Alex!" Clara roared at him. "You'll suffocate him!"

But Alex didn't seem to be paying her any attention. He kept on strangling Lincoln until Clara moved, her hands going to Alex's arm and trying to tug it free. Looking up at her, Alex barked his order, his voice harsh and demanding.

"Get away, Clara!"

"No," Clara challenged him, her voice also stubborn. "I won't let you do this…I can't…"

But Lincoln was already moving, his hand retracting back and his fingers moving to Alex's shoulder, pressing down on where he knew the gunshot wound would be. Alex screamed in pain, releasing Lincoln from his hold and giving the man a chance to scramble free, both of them tumbling to the floor.

Lincoln crawled the furthest, grabbing a gun that Alex must have dropped when he was forced into the room. He held it in his fingers tightly while Alex forced himself to his feet and bent slightly at the waist, panting for breath.

"Takes a while for a gunshot wound to heal, doesn't it, Mahone?" Lincoln taunted him as Clara stayed to the side.

"Toss me the handcuffs," Lincoln continued to demand as Alex continued to grab his breath. "Hand them over."

Clara didn't know exactly what happened next, but Alex was charging at Lincoln, moving to push him to the ground, both men grunting. It was then when the gun slipped out of Lincoln's hands and Clara moved then, bending down to pick it up and holding it in her fingertips, dangling it by her side. She didn't know exactly what happened as Lincoln ended up on his back and Alex grabbed his arms behind his back, cuffing him as he stood up.

"Get up," Alex demanded from Lincoln and the man ground his teeth together before Alex marched over to Clara, grabbing the gun from her and pointing it at Lincoln.

"Alex," Clara pleaded with him.

"Don't," he shot her a warning glare from over his shoulder. "Now move, Burrows. We're going for a little walk."

Lincoln could practically feel the rage boiling inside of him as Clara felt Alex grip her harshly by the arm and drag her along by his side. She knew that this was what Alex had been waiting for.

…

The port just outside of Panama City was quiet and Alex had found the perfect location to cuff Lincoln. He was cuffed to a pipe while Alex held the gun in between his legs. Clara had found herself stood to the side, looking out of the window as she chewed down on her lip, trying to find out what she should do.

"You should go," Lincoln was the one to speak, leaning against the pipe as he turned his head to look to Clara. "You shouldn't be here."

"She's going nowhere," Alex declared, speaking for Clara. "Now pull out your phone and call Michael."

"Why?"

"Just do it," Alex said, waving the gun threateningly as Clara shook her head and Lincoln ground his teeth together.

He pulled his cell out from his jean pocket, opening it and calling Michael. Clara could hear the rings from the other end, but no one was picking up. Moving in and out of all the wooden boxes, she let her hands skim over the top of them as she let her thoughts consume her for a little while.

"He's not answering," Lincoln said.

"Well I hope he made it back to your boat," Alex retorted, still seated.

"And if he doesn't?" Lincoln wondered. "Look at you…you're barely holding it together."

"I just want this finished."

"Then you shouldn't have come to Panama," Lincoln declared. "Besides, Michael will never give you what you want. You know that."

"I know," Alex responded to him. "But that's good…because you guys keep me going with a job."

"This isn't going to end well for you," Lincoln said, peering off to the side. "I've never been good at anything, except for a few things. One is being able to look at a man and know when he has been defeated."

Lincoln looked back to Alex then as Clara peered at him through the corner of her eye, knowing full well that Lincoln was telling the truth. Alex could only look away before Clara went back to sit next to Alex, leaning closer to him and whispering into his ear.

"Promise me you won't kill him," she demanded from him and Alex turned to look at her, brow arched.

"You've never had a problem with me killing the previous ones," he informed her and she shook her head at hearing him.

"You told me that Abruzzi didn't come quietly and that one of them committed suicide…I know there was that kid-"

"-You don't know half of it," Alex interrupted her. "You really don't know, Clara."

"No, I don't," Clara hissed at him, "and I have been trying to understand, truly I have, Alex. And I do understand…I understood why you killed them…for Pam and Cameron…to keep them safe. I know that. But if you intend to disappear with their money and boat then you don't need them dead."

Clara watched as Alex stood up then, hands going through his hair as he spoke to her and she remained seated before shouting at him, her voice on the verge of hysteria as Alex went to stand by the window.

"Do you not get it?" Clara demanded from him as Lincoln watched on. "All of this has been so wrong, Alex…all of it…and they get away with it…but you…if you kill him…"

"What?" Alex demanded from her, waving the gun in Lincoln's direction. "What, Clara? Do you think I don't know how far this has gone? I know, okay? I get it, but I can't do anything about it, can I? I promised to help you get away, Clara, and that is what I am doing."

"No," Clara said with a shake of her head. "No…I don't want this…it's gone too far."

Alex watched as she began to move towards the door of the warehouse, but he was quicker. Grabbing her by the elbow, he stopped her from going anywhere as she turned around and fought against him, her hands pushing at his chest while he grappled with her, trying not to drop the gun as he finally twisted her arm behind her back.

Moving her over to a crate, he pushed her down, bending her at the waist as he kept her pinned there. Tears fell down her face as she continued to fight Alex.

"Let her go, man!" Lincoln yelled.

"If I let her go then she'll go to the police," Alex retorted. "I can't let you do that, Clara," he spoke to her as he found the spare set of handcuffs he kept in his pocket, attaching one to her wrist before dragging her to the same pipe Lincoln was cuffed at.

He attached her to it, watching as she sunk down to the floor, letting her legs bend underneath her as Alex backed away again.

"Alex," Clara said, trying not to sob openly as she looked to him. "Please…"

"I can't let you go," Alex said to her, looking her in the eye. "I thought you understood, Clara."

"I do!" she snapped back at him. "I do understand, Alex, but that doesn't make this right…I'm…are you not tired of doing this? Of doing the wrong thing all of the time?"

"I have a family to protect," Alex said. "Do you think I want to be here? I don't, Clara. I want to go…get away from here…and I will do."

"And when you hand them over to The Company?" Clara wondered of him. "What about me? You know that they think I have something…you'd leave me here?"

"No," Alex said without skipping a beat.

"Then don't leave them," Clara urged of him.

"I don't care about them," Alex responded. "I don't care what happens to them. All I care about is getting my family away from this…and getting you somewhere safe."

Clara went silent then, bowing her head as Alex pointed the gun at Lincoln once again.

"Try him again," he demanded from him.

Lincoln continued to glare, but he picked up his phone and dialled the number for Michael once more. But this time Michael did answer.

"I'm sorry, Michael," Lincoln spoke down the phone before handing the phone over to Alex.

"Hello, Michael," he answered and Michael said something down the other end of the phone as Clara looked over to Alex. "You don't have to worry about that. Because when you get to the bottom of things, Michael, your brother is like you. He doesn't have it in him to kill a man."

There was silence for another few moments before Alex spoke.

"This is what I want," Alex said. "You see, I heard that Bagwell was caught earlier today, but that money he had was nowhere to be found. So I am going to assume you have it? I also assume you're on the Christina Rose right now. It's a great plan, Michael…but you see…I kind of need your plan. I need your plan to disappear. So you're going to bring me the money and the boat."

Silence once more as Alex spoke.

"So you have five minutes and then you can have your brother."

Alex hung up, waiting with patience for the five minutes to be over before he called Michael back, demanding to know if he was going to go through with the plan. Clara said nothing further until Alex hung up after giving away his location.

"How does it feel being on the run?" Lincoln wondered of him.

"I feel more free than I have done in years," Alex responded back.

"Not if they catch you."

"I doubt that will happen," Alex responded.

"If they catch you then you'll be facing the chair."

"How ironic," Alex said, pulling his phone out again before dialling another number. "Mr Kim. It's Alex Mahone. Call me back."

Hanging up, Alex chuckled. "And he shall have his justice."

Clara frowned then. "What do you intend to do?"

Looking to her, Alex moved over to her while Lincoln watched him kneel before her, taking her hand into both of his and holding it tightly. She said nothing for a moment as his other hand went to her cheek, wiping away a speck of dirt that sat there.

"I'm not letting Kim leave here alive," he whispered to her. "After everything he had ordered done to you…Cameron…I promised you that I wouldn't let him get away with it."

"He's the man who ordered…who…"

Alex nodded as she struggled to speak and he tucked her hair behind her ear. "He's the one you have to thank for those scars on your back."

"Then I'm not leaving until I find out why he didn't want me dead."

"He told me that order came from someone higher up."

"And he will know who, so I want to know," Clara told Alex. "So if you intend to kill him, then what? What happens to Lincoln and Michael?"

Alex shrugged. "I don't care, Clara. They go their own way and we go our own way."

"But what if this doesn't work?" Clara demanded from him.

"It will," Alex said, his voice full of determination as he squeezed her hand once more. "It will work."

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think! I'm pretty sure no one is really reading, but I'm having fun writing so will keep going, it would just be great to know if anyone is reading! Next chapter soon!


	14. Chapter 14

Sitting on the floor, Clara moved to cross her legs underneath her while Lincoln remained stood. Alex had wandered off to the other side of the warehouse, talking to his ex wife. Lincoln had watched the way he had walked off and heard the intensity in his voice. He sounded worried, yet he also sounded determined. He was determined for his family to be with him. Lincoln could understand that. He didn't know what he would risk for a chance to be back with Veronica.

But then he let his gaze wander down as he watched Clara. He saw the woman staring after Alex and he wondered exactly what it was she felt for the man who had ruined so many lives. Lincoln slowly sunk down to crouch beside her, getting a better look at the wide-eyed woman, her mouth agape and her face full of some kind of anguish. Lincoln suspected he knew that look.

"You can do better than him, you know?" Lincoln informed her and Clara's brow furrowed as she turned to look at him and she shook her head.

"It isn't like that," Clara said in a small voice.

"Sure looks like it," he responded. "I'm not blind. I can see how you look at him…how you defend him…"

"He's not a bad person," Clara responded simply. "I know he isn't a bad person…and he's here because of me. He is in this position because of me and that makes all of this worse because he doesn't even hate me. He doesn't even blame me."

Lincoln let his eyebrows furrow together as Clara turned to look back to Alex.

"On the night that I lured Shales out, I…he started to attack me," Clara explained, not knowing if Michael had told his brother this already. "He knocked the gun away from me and started to attack me. I thought that he would kill me, but Alex got there in time. I found the gun again and I wanted to shoot him."

"But you couldn't," Lincoln responded. "He made the choice to shoot him. It is not your fault."

"But if I hadn't have lured him out then he would never have had to make the choice. I was the one who led him to Shales…so this is my fault. If I hadn't gone on TV and done that stupid interview then none of this would have happened. Alex wouldn't be here."

"I don't believe that," Lincoln said with a shake of his head. "Mahone knew what he was doing when he killed Shales."

"Maybe," Clara responded, "but I don't see it like that. All I see is a man who has been forced to do things he didn't want to do for the protection of his family and I understand that. I understand why he has done the things he has done because if my sister had been alive then I would have done the same thing."

Lincoln looked away, not wanting to think about that. The man before him had gone and murdered his father. He had shot his father and Lincoln wanted his revenge for that. He would get it too. He refused to let Alex get away with that. How could he?

"He's still a bad person," Lincoln said, but Clara scoffed.

"There are worse," she responded.

"He chained you to a pipe," Lincoln deadpanned with her. "How can you still defend him after how he has treated you?"

"I know why he did it," Clara said. "And he was right. If I left here then I would have just gone straight to the police and handed myself in…told them everything…and if I did that then it would mean that Alex wouldn't have a chance to escape."

"Surely that tells you the difference between you and Alex?" he suggested to her. "You want to do the right thing."

"And you think he doesn't?"

"He has a funny way of showing it," Lincoln scoffed.

"I think that if The Company didn't have his wife and kid being watched and threatened then he would have turned himself in without a second thought," Clara said and Lincoln shook his head, moving a hand to scratch at the back of his neck as he heard what she had just said, but he couldn't accept it.

If he accepted that then he accepted the fact that Alex Mahone was not a bad man. He remained silent for a few seconds before seeing Clara shift on the floor as Alex continued with his conversation. She let her eyes move back over to him, thinking back to what Lincoln had just said to her. The idea of her even looking lovelorn over Alex Mahone was just ridiculous.

She took in his face then, the way his cheekbones arched and his eyes narrowed in concentration. He was always pushing his hand through his hair, ruffling it to make it look messier than it already did. She could see how he had turned red, no doubt from the constant sun he saw when chasing down the convicts. Perhaps he might be considered handsome, at only eight years older than Clara, he was certainly closer to her age than most men she considered handsome.

He had been kind to her too. Yes, he had said things that had hurt her. He had told her things that had caused her to shudder and have nightmares. He had even dragged her into his business, telling her exactly what he had to do when he could have kept it to himself. He had handled her roughly, grabbing her harshly when she had taken his pills and then again today when she had tried to escape.

But then he had flown all the way from New Mexico when she had been tortured. He had been the one to find her on the floor of her house. He had been the one to pick her up, clean her up, and take her somewhere safe. He had been the one she had ran to when The Company had turned up on her doorstep and demanded for her to go with them. She had literally run to him when she had seen him in the airport. There was a safety that she felt with Alex compared to others.

"Believe me," Lincoln said, snapping her out of her thoughts, "you need to stop protecting him. Do you think he would offer you the same courtesy?"

"Yes," Clara said without skipping a beat. "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him…you know when you were captured? Back in New Mexico?"

"Yeah."

"Well do you know why Alex went away while you were locked up?"

"To come back with the convoy," Lincoln said and Clara shook her head at him.

"He came back for me," she said. "When The Company had me tortured for going to New Mexico with him, they told him. They warned him what happened to people who got involved in his business. Alex was the one to jump on a plane and come and find me."

"Probably because he felt guilty," Lincoln said.

"Maybe," Clara said, "but he was the one who came…I just…I know he has done some bad things…but I can't see him like that, Lincoln. I can't see him like that because I have seen what this has done to him."

Lincoln shook his head and turned to look away for a moment. "I don't know whether you're a fool or too trusting."

"Fools usually are too trusting," she responded back to him and he nodded his head at hearing that. "But whatever, as soon as his ex-wife comes here then we'll be heading our separate ways."

"He wants his family here?" Lincoln checked and Clara nodded.

"Everything he has done has been for them," she said. "Why would he not want them back if that was the case? I cannot blame him for that, but even I have to admit it seems foolish, subjecting them to a life on the run is unfair."

"Yeah," Lincoln scoffed, "just a bit…and is that what you want?"

"It doesn't matter about what I want," Clara said. "I just want him to escape this alive…I can fend for myself. I've had to for a while now."

Nodding, Lincoln seemed to understand what she was saying as she inhaled a sharp breath and looked away as Alex made his way back to them. Bending down he uncuffed Clara from the pipe and she grabbed hold of her wrist as he offered her his hand to help her from the floor. She took hold of it and Alex picked her up.

"Bringing your kid and ex down here," Lincoln spoke, "is that such a good idea, man?"

"They're my family," Alex responded before looking to Clara. "Promise me you're not going to leave."

"Promise," she said, wandering around the warehouse and wondering why Alex trusted her so much.

She took a seat on the crate in the corner, folding one leg over the other before leaning forwards, letting her thoughts consume her. Lincoln kept on speaking to Alex as he watched the man turn his head to let his eyes roam over Clara's form.

"You're better off cutting yourself out of their lives," Lincoln said. "Trust me, I know."

"Everything I have done has been for them," Alex said with a shake of his head. "I do everything for them."

"Just like any father would for their kid," Lincoln said with a nod. "I know, man. But I also know I'm better off leaving him to his own life."

Alex said nothing in response, and so Lincoln continued to talk.

"And her?" Lincoln wondered, not bothering to mention how he felt the loosening of the pipe underneath his cuffed hand. Lincoln looked over to Clara as Alex did the same, moving the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow. "Man, she told me everything."

"Did she?" Alex muttered."She has a habit of trying to be pleasant to everyone."

"She knows I'm innocent, anyway, just like you probably do."

"Yeah, so what?"

"But you don't care." Lincoln said. "You don't care about anything other than getting your life back, but does your wife know who you really are?"

"You know what it is like," Alex said, beginning to pace.

"And do you think she will accept you if she knew?" Lincoln asked. "Because I don't think she will. I don't think many people would accept it…but she does…that woman over there accepts it and I've seen the way she looks at you."

Alex frowned at hearing that, turning to look straight at Lincoln as he spoke and Clara remained out of earshot. Alex moved closer to Lincoln as he kept on speaking, his voice low and full of honesty.

"I'd call your ex-wife back and tell her not to come here," Lincoln said. "You're going to ruin her life, and then I'd tell that woman over there that she needs to flee…hell…I'd give her a million of the five million to let her start over and get away from you."

"What were you on about?" Alex demanded, turning the conversation around. "When you said how she looks at me."

"You don't get it, do you?" Lincoln continued. "She tried to deny it, but I don't believe her. She's done nothing but defend your actions since I've met her. She's done nothing but stare at you with those big eyes of hers. What do you think I'm trying to tell you?"

Alex felt his mouth go dry for a moment, gulping as he shook his head. "You're being ridiculous."

"She said the same thing," Lincoln said. "But I know what I saw. I mean, I guess it makes sense…you're the only thing she has, right? No close family…no fiancé…just you."

"Stop talking," Alex demanded and Lincoln shook his head.

"No," he said, "because you've either brainwashed that girl or she's so far gone with what she feels for you that she refuses to do anything other than defend you."

Alex held a warning hand up to silence Lincoln before he turned on his heel, his eyes landing on Clara once more as he watched her sit on the crate, peering out of the window and lost in her own thoughts. Lincoln had no idea what he was talking about. He didn't know Clara. Hell, even Alex sometimes thought he didn't know Clara.

She was a kind woman, Alex knew that, but he never knew what she was thinking. He watched her for another moment, taking in her round face and her long dark hair that fell down her back in a messy ponytail. She was pale, her body small and slim while her face was also slightly gaunt, her lips big and often being chewed on by her teeth.

Shaking his head, Alex knew that Lincoln had no idea what he was talking about. He didn't know Clara. He didn't know anything about her or what her relationship with Alex was. He had met Clara once and now he was telling Alex that he could see the woman was…what…falling for him? Alex would have laughed at him if he had the energy. That was absolutely ludicrous and he knew it.

Yet Alex didn't laugh. He remained silent and contemplative at what he had heard. It had been true that Clara had been on his thoughts for a long time. He had done things he never thought he would have done for her. He had gone out of his way to keep her safe, protect her from any harm. He had done those things for her, yet he had let others die without feeling anything.

He thought that it was because of the bond they shared over Shales. He thought that was why he was doing these things for her, but perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps he did see her as a friend, as someone he wanted to keep safe. Was there anything more there? He doubted it. He had Pam. Pam was the woman he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. He knew that beyond a shadow of doubt.

Yet Lincoln was probably right. Would Pam understand why he had done what he had done? If she knew the truth then she would probably be horrified. Clara knew everything and she understood. She had even been there to comfort him when he struggled to cope. Clara had been there through everything.

"Just keep quiet and get some sleep," Alex demanded from Lincoln after he had wallowed in his thoughts for too long.

Moving over to where Clara was seated, Alex perched on the box besides her, hands between his legs as he felt her look to him.

"Give the brothers half of the money," Clara said and Alex looked at her, wondering what she was doing. "We both know they are innocent in all of this, Alex. Why do you need five million dollars? You can disappear with a fraction of that."

He chuckled at hearing her, shaking his head. "You're too soft," he said.

"And you're not?" Clara wondered back. "I get it, you put on this hard exterior, but I like to think I know the real you. You're not as tough as you like to think."

"I need that money and boat."

"No, you need some of the money," Clara said. "If you want to do the right thing, for once in your life, then let them escape. Let them go and promise them that you won't go after them."

"And Burrows?" Alex wondered from her. "He wants me dead for what I did to his dad."

"You said it yourself," Clara said, "he doesn't have it in him to kill…I should know how he feels. He feels exactly like I did with Theresa."

Alex went mute then as Clara stood up and folded her arms over herself and looked down to him. "If you really want to make amends then just think about it. I know you, Alex. You're not the man people think you are."

She sauntered off again then and Alex saw her find some chair in the corner. She curled herself into it, satchel by her side as she closed her eyes and he wondered if she was going to try to fall asleep. Alex remained where he was; knowing full well that sleep wasn't going to come to him any time soon.

…

Looking onto the dock, Alex waited with patience the following morning for Scofield to appear. Clara was already awake and stood by Burrows, whispering something to him as he seemed to watch her intently. Alex didn't know what time it was before the door opened, creaking loudly and alerting himself to someone's presence.

Stepping back from the window with the gun in his grip, he walked over to the centre of the room, gun raised and aimed directly at Michael Scofield while Clara remained stood where she was.

"Michael, that is a beautiful boat," Alex said.

"Just change the name when you take it," Michael demanded, moving down the steps, dressed in a black zip up jacket, his hands held in the air in defeat as Alex moved over to him. "I don't think my mother would have approved of you."

"Done," Alex said, motioning to where Lincoln was stood.

"Uncuff me," Lincoln demanded as Michael moved further into the room.

Clara walked back as Michael looked to Alex, his face sweaty and his voice low. "So you're going to go back on your word?" Michael asked of Alex and the man shook his head.

"Just put your hands up," Alex said, patting down Michael to make sure he didn't have a weapon on him. "And no, The Company seem to want you alive. I don't know why and I don't care. So where is the money?"

"Just let my brother go," Michael said.

"Not before I get the money," Alex continued.

"You have the boat."

"I want the money," Alex said before he heard his phone begin to ring.

Digging into his pocket, he pulled it out and answered it, still looking between both brothers as he spoke. "I'm in the warehouse…yeah…"

The conversation was short and Clara watched as Alex began to call another number, pressing the phone to his ear as she watched him with intrigue.

"Hello…you speak English? Yes…Miraflores Dock…there's a man…an Asian man and he's been shot…" he hung up without a second thought and looked to Clara.

"I was going to say two Americans had done it, but I left them out," he said, almost as if he was looking for Clara to thank him for doing it. All she could do was roll her eyes at hearing him.

"So you're telling the truth," she said and Alex shrugged.

"Guess so," he said. "Now go out the other door, Clara."

"No," she said with a shake of her head, "not until I get answers."

Michael and Lincoln looked at each other for a second before Alex moved towards them, gun pointed at Michael as his face went wild and hysterical and he yelled:

"Where is the money?"

"Not going to happen," Michael said, hands in his pockets.

"What if we don't take all of it?" Clara was the one to pipe up. "Listen, we all need to get out of here and away from The Company. We just go our separate ways…forget this…no one is going anywhere at this rate."

"He killed my dad," Lincoln said. "He's going nowhere."

Before anyone could do anything, the door opened and Alex backed up as the man spoke. "I am impressed."

Clara said nothing as she went to stand by Lincoln's side and Michael stood next to her. She looked to the man who had just walked in, dressed in a casual suit, hands in his pocket and a slim smirk on his face that Clara wanted to knock off. This man had been the one ordering Alex about. He had been the one to hurt his son. He had been the one to order her torture. She felt the anger course through her, hands balling into fists as she looked at him.

"They're all yours," Alex said, motioning to them.

"No," the man said, looking at them. "This isn't where I wanted them, Alex…and you decided to bring your little girlfriend along too. We heard how she escaped our men and we were impressed. Of course, we had no intention of killing her."

"Why do I not believe that?" Clara snapped this time and the man looked to her. "Who is it you're working for? Who wants to protect me?"

"Someone who seems to care about you," the man simply responded. "Maybe one day you'll find out."

Clara gritted her teeth together as Mahone shook his head.

"They're your problem now. We're going," he said to him.

"Really?" Kim asked back. "You see, I'm not foolish, Alex. I knew I was coming here for a reason."

It was then when Alex turned the gun onto Kim, stepping closer to him as Clara recoiled at the motion and Michael moved towards his brother, stepping around the woman as he nodded to his brother.

"I knew you wanted me here," Kim said. "You want your revenge, Alex."

"After what you did to my son and Clara…yeah…I want revenge. So consider this a double-cross."

"Good plan," Kim said, "but I saw it coming."

It was then when the other doors opened, slamming against the wall behind them. Two more agents entered the room, their guns raised as Alex moved closer to them, his back to Kim as he did his best to work out what to do.

"Great minds think alike, Alex," Kim declared and Alex turned back to him, aiming the gun.

It was then when Lincoln suddenly moved forwards, knocking Clara to the floor as he ducked to hide behind a box and Michael did the same. The first gunshot went and Clara remained on the floor, her hands in front of her as she began to crawl forwards, still hiding behind the boxes Lincoln had shoved her behind. She didn't dare look up, too scared about what she might see or be hit by.

It was then when she felt something on her back and she looked over her shoulder, Alex next to her as he kept his grip on his gun and peered over the crates, shooting at something while Clara remained hidden on the ground.

"I need you to get up," Alex demanded from her. "We're going to run for it."

She couldn't see Michael or Lincoln anywhere, but she knew that they had to get out of the mess they were in. Moving to take hold of her hand, Alex kept hold of her as he dragged her across the warehouse, firing his gun at one of the agents who had been waiting for them to move. Alex moved behind a tall crate, pushing Clara against it to make sure she was safe, his front pressed to hers.

But that wasn't what bothered him. He felt her hand drop from his and he looked down at her as she looked down too. Moving a hand to her side, she pressed there and pulled her hand away, the skin stained in blood. Alex let his eyes widen before he acted with haste, the man who had been shooting coming closer.

Alex leapt out from his hiding spot, grabbing hold of him by the neck and snapping it without a second thought before returning to Clara. She was still leant against the crate as he moved with haste, wrapping an arm around her waist before knocking her from her feet as he carried her out of the warehouse, running as fast as possible towards the boat that Michael had bought.

He climbed into it, tentatively placing Clara down on deck. "It's okay…everything is going to be okay…"

He moved back again, pulling the rope free from the boat and then starting the engine. He felt relief as the engine started straight away and he manoeuvred the boat out of the harbour before coming to the open sea. He knew that he had to dock somewhere else and get Clara to a hospital, but staying there was no option.

As he let the boat bob around, he moved to where he had laid Clara in the middle of the deck. He moved to pick her up once more, listening to her groaning as he sat her up by the wheel so that he could move when he needed to. He kept her in his grip, holding onto her tightly, his arms around her waist as he looked to her wound by her side.

"I need to take a look," Alex said.

"Knock yourself out," Clara urged him and Alex kept her sat up against the step leading down onto the deck.

Moving to kneel by her side, Alex realised there would be no easy way to do this considering she was wearing a dress. Gulping once, Alex motioned to the zip on her back. "I need to unzip it down to your side," he told her.

"Yeah," Clara said, leaning forwards slightly as Alex found the zip on her back.

He pulled it down gently, revealing the scars on her back before he reached forward, tugging the sleeves from her arms and then peeling the dress down. He tried not to notice the black bra she wore or the way her chest heaved as he moved to look at the shot.

Pressing against it, he heard her hiss in pain before nodding his head. "A flesh wound," he told her. "I don't think it's anything else…you're lucky…it just grazed your side."

"It hurts like hell."

"Yeah," Alex nodded, "getting shot isn't a massage."

"Christ," Clara complained as Alex moved into the cabin, finding the first aid box before opening it and searching for something to clean it with. He found some wipes and set about cleaning the blood while Clara remained sat up.

"What now?" she asked from him. "That didn't exactly go to plan."

"Now, we keep moving," Alex told her. "I'll dock further down the coast and we continue to keep going. I need…I need to meet Pam."

"You're still going ahead with that?"

"Yeah," Alex said, not offering her anything more than that. "I think I should also get you to a hospital. I don't think there is any damage, but I'm not a doctor."

"I feel fine…just some pain," Clara said. "I think we would know by now if the damage was serious."

"I'd still feel better getting you in an ambulance," Alex informed her. "Just let me dock and get one…and then we can go again. We can go and get away from this."

"Can we?" Clara wondered from him. "Because if that man is still looking for us then how long will it be before he finds us?"

"It will be too late," Alex promised her in a small voice. "I'm just…I'm just sorry you got shot."

"You and me both," Clara muttered, "but what you said back there…about not framing the brothers to the police…"

"I should have," Alex muttered. "I should have framed them, but I couldn't and do you want to know why, Clara?"

She said nothing as she felt his hand apply a bandage, but he didn't retract his fingers, instead he moved his hands up her waist, his fingers curling around her side as his other hand moved to her cheek, holding it in his fingers before pushing stray wisps of hair behind her ear.

"Because all I could think of was how you'd look at me with disgust," he said, his gaze searching hers, "and for some reason that I don't understand, I couldn't deal with that."

Gulping, Clara nodded, wondering what the hell was going on as she kept on searching his gaze and she almost wanted to do something she might regret. Thankfully he moved first, unsure of what he was doing as he moved to swiftly press his lips against her forehead, his hand moving to cradle the back of her neck as she remained silent, feeling the warmth from his neck as her cheek pressed there. She inhaled his familiar scent of fresh detergent mixed with sweat before closing her eyes and feeling him move away to start the ignition once more.

She watched his back before folding her arms over herself and wondering what the hell had just gone on between them. Lincoln hadn't been right with what he had said. She knew that. He couldn't have been right.

...

A/N: Thanks so much to Evie for reviewing, your review was lovely to read! Do let me know what you think as we move into season 3!


	15. Chapter 15

Clara grunted in pain as Alex helped her to her feet once they had docked further down the coast. He had helped her back into her dress, his hands warm as they grazed her back and he pulled the zip back up. He had cradled her close to him, his arms holding her steady as he demanded for an ambulance and the man in charge of the port seemed to move away with haste, calling for medical help.

"Are you sure this is necessary?" Clara asked as he saw the big step onto the port.

"I'd rather be safe than sorry," Alex told her, bending down to pick her up once more, feeling her arm drape over his shoulders as her side hit against his stomach.

He took a deep breath before climbing up the step and walking down the wooden plank towards land, still carrying her despite her protesting that she could walk. As he stood at the end and looked to the man in charge, he nodded and spoke in a quick voice, telling Alex that an ambulance would be there soon.

"What happened to her?" the man asked.

"Nothing serious," Clara was the one to answer as Alex tried to adjust her in his arms. "I caught myself on something in the boat…it got lodged in my side. He's just being overprotective."

"I see," the man said, offering a small wink towards Clara as he patted her arm once. "I would do the same for my wife, senorita…but that woman is always tripping into things and injuring herself. I don't know what to do with her most of the time."

Clara offered him a kind smile, not bothering to respond to him on that matter. It took another five minutes before the ambulance arrived and Clara was bundled into the back of it. Alex laid her down on the bed before motioning outside to her.

"I'll wait there," he said before addressing the paramedic. "I bandaged it and cleaned it so it shouldn't be infected, but if she has to go into hospital…"

The female paramedic placed a hand on his arm, silently assuring him that everything was going to be fine. "Si, senor, we will take a look and let you know."

Dropping his hands to his hips, Alex paced along the length of the boat, his mind still on Clara as he thought of what he had just seen. Leaning against the vehicle, he let his hands move down his face as he contemplated what had just happened. He didn't know what he felt as soon as he saw her bring her blooded hand up, showing him the evidence of the gunshot. He had flown into a fit of blind hot rage at the sight of it, killing the man who had hurt her.

And then all he could think of was getting her out of there before anything more could happen to her. He had done his best not to seem too panicked, knowing that would only alarm Clara more considering they didn't know the extent of her injuries, but he had struggled not to feel worry course through his veins.

It took another ten minutes before Clara left the ambulance, the paramedics helping her down the step. Alex stood before her, his eyes set on her as she glanced back to him. He took hold of her once the paramedics let her go, his arm slipping around her waist, almost as though he was worried she would fall without support.

"She is going to be fine," the paramedic declared. "That hook she hit was nasty, but it did not do any lasting damage. You were lucky."

"I guess so," Clara said.

"Just make sure you keep changing the bandage and cleaning the wound…and nothing too strenuous either."

"Thanks," Alex said to them as they nodded and bid their farewells.

"We should get going," Clara said and they began hobbling back towards the boat. Alex asked for directions while Clara peered down the dock, eyes narrowing as she saw people boarding the boat they had just vacated. Her eyebrows knitted together as she heard them yell at each other and Alex kept on discussing things with the man next to him.

"Alex," Clara whispered, dragging his attention away. "Something is wrong."

"Is this your boat, senor?"

Alex looked to the man who had addressed him, dressed in a black uniform, no doubt some form of cop. Alex nodded while Clara knew that something was happening. Something bad was happening and she couldn't put her finger on what it was. Biting down on her tongue, she felt Alex's grip on her increase.

"Well, yeah," Alex said. "What's the problem?"

It was then when someone left the boat with a black bag and Clara's eyes widened as the man opened the bag and nodded to the one who was questioning them.

"Drugs, senor," he said. "You're going to have come with us…you too…"

"No," Clara said with haste as she was snatched from Alex's grip, her arms forced behind her back as she felt handcuffs go around her wrists. "They are not ours…we don't know anything about them…nothing…"

"She's telling the truth!" Alex howled, fighting against the men who were trying to cuff him, but failing miserably. "She's telling you the truth, we don't know whose drugs those are. We are telling the truth!"

They weren't listening to them as they were forced down the dock, people staring at them as they were dragged away. Clara caught Alex's eye and they both knew exactly who had done this to them. Michael had set them up. He knew they would be caught. Clara almost felt sick at that thought. She knew how Michael detested Mahone, but she had hoped that he didn't feel the same way about her. But he had given them no warning. There had been nothing.

As her head was forced downwards into the back of the police car, all Clara could do was take one final look at the ocean, sensing that her chance of freedom had been fleeting.

…

She sat down on the bench in the middle of the holding cell as Alex made his phone call to his wife. She had seen him break down for a brief moment, his hand holding his forehead as he closed his eyes and tears streamed down his cheeks. Clara had simply remained seated, not wanting to eavesdrop on his conversation. She had gotten the basics of what he was saying.

She understood that he had told Pam to forget about him and forget about their plans. Clara knew how difficult that had been for him, but a part of Clara thought that was the best for Pam. She knew exactly what would have happened if Pam had come out to him. Alex would have put her in danger. A life on the run meant a life in constant danger.

Clara said nothing as Alex took his seat next to her once more, his clothes dirtied after everything they had done. He kept his hands on his thighs while Clara sat up straight, looking at the metal bars that were keeping them caged in. The heat in the room was enough for her to begin to sweat, her mind on nothing but getting out.

"I know," was all Clara could say to him and he nodded at her.

"I need you to listen to me," Alex said, his voice low and full of pleading as he spoke to her and she managed to look at him as he looked around the room that was filled with convicts waiting to be transferred. "Scofield set us up. We both know that."

"I know it," Clara said, "and I'm pissed with him, but if we tell the truth-"

"-No one will believe us," Alex said, interrupting her as he took a deep breath. "No one will believe anything about what he did. You know, Scofield, he's good at covering his tracks."

"So what do we do?" Clara wondered and Alex dared to move his hand to her arm, holding it softly before he moved his other hand to her cheek, his thumb running along her cheekbone. "Alex?"

"You know that I never meant for any of this to happen," Alex told her. "All I wanted was a better life for me…my family…and you…because, for some reason, Clara Reynolds, I can never get you off of my mind, despite everything."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Clara asked of him and he shrugged his shoulders to her.

"I don't know," he answered her honestly. "I honestly don't know what I mean or even what I am trying to say. All I know is that I do care about you, probably more than I should or more than I have about anyone else recently."

She turned away then, hand covering her mouth as Alex dragged her gaze back to his, fingers guiding her cheek to turn her head as his other hand ran down her arm to capture her fingers inside of his, holding them tightly.

"And it's because I care why I am doing this," he whispered, moving with haste to kiss her on the forehead as he stood up.

His grip left her and she stood slowly, watching him move towards the gates, banging on them quickly. Following him, Clara walked steadily towards him as a guard came to stand before Alex, chewing on a piece of gum.

"I want to confess," Alex said to him, eyes flitting around as Clara shook her head as he continued to speak. "I did it…she had no idea…you need to let her go."

"No!" Clara roared out loud, unable to push herself quickly to Alex, but she eventually got there, her hand going to his arm as the guard opened the gate and beckoned for Alex to go with him to an interview room.

Pulling at his arm, Clara shook her head as she spoke to him. "Alex, don't do this…don't…please…"

Turning to look back to her, Alex managed to pull her wrist so that he held it in his grip to stop her from pulling at him. She shook her head slowly, her eyes wet with tears and Alex wondered why she was doing this.

"I dragged you into this," Alex said in a low voice, his other hand going back to push her hair behind her ear, a motion that was slowly becoming familiar to him as he completed it. "So I'm going to protect you."

"No," she said. "I don't need protection."

"Maybe not," Alex shrugged, "but maybe this is the right thing to do."

Clara said nothing further to him as the guard pulled him from the holding cell and dragged him down the corridor. Letting her fingers wrap around the bars, Clara pressed herself against them, her tears now flowing down her face as she continued to cry, unable to stop herself.

"Alex!" she called after him, her voice still pleading for him not to do this. He didn't turn around to look back at her, instead he just kept on walking with the guards until they rounded the corner.

Bowing her head, Clara accepted defeat, knowing that she would do whatever she could to get Alex free. She owed him that much after what he had just done for her. Picking her head up, she moved back into the holding cell, her thoughts turning back to Scofield and how she could get her revenge on him.

…

Clara was released that evening, but she did not leave the police station. Instead she stayed and demanded to know where Alex was being held. She found out that he had been taken to a prison called Sona and so she had demanded to see him. The men had laughed at her then before telling her that she would have to go the following day. But then they advised her against it, telling her how the prison wasn't your typical detention facility.

Furrowing her brows at hearing that, Clara wondered what they were on about before they told her how the prisoners had forced the guards from the building and they ran things inside. The security was heavy, with guards stationed at various points. Apparently they shot anyone who left the walls.

She had held her head in her hands as she came outside and she realised that she had nothing. She had left her satchel in the warehouse and she suspected that was probably a crime scene with a dead body in it, unless The Company had moved them. No doubt they didn't want a scene.

She had no money on her to help her catch a cab, but she could soon rectify that. It took a while before a cab agreed to take her and she promised to pay him on the other end of the journey. Thankfully, the warehouse was empty. She wasted no time in moving inside of it, grabbing her bag and thanking God that everything had been untouched.

Once outside, she presented him the money and asked him if she could grab a lift to a hotel somewhere, knowing that she needed to freshen up. As they drove through the streets of Panama City, she saw someone who looked familiar.

"Stop, please," Clara urged and he did as she had asked.

Feeling the rage inside of her build, Clara handed the driver some more cash and thanked him for going out of his way for her. She climbed from the cab before storming across the street and blocking the path of the man who was walking there. He stood still as soon as he came across her, looking down and sighing.

"Clara…"

But he didn't say anything further as Clara raised her hand and slapped him across the face, not bothering to conceal the anger she felt. Her slap seemed to have done nothing to him as he didn't even turn his head far to the side. People watched on as she pointed her finger at him, her cheeks reddening as she saw him look back to her, slight agitation on his face as he did so.

"Your brother is an arsehole, did you know that?" she snapped and Lincoln held his hands up in defence.

"I didn't know what he had done until you had gone…and what happened to you?"

"I got shot," Clara said. "It was only a flesh wound, but Alex docked and insisted I go to a hospital. The police were onto us and they found the drugs your brother had stashed in the yacht. He knew what he was doing, didn't he? He set us up!"

"Yeah, he knew," Lincoln said. "But he only thought that Alex was going to be on that boat. He never meant to get you into trouble."

"Well, he did," Clara huffed and Lincoln frowned.

"So how come you're free and out here?" he wondered from her.

"Because Alex took the fall for it," she said. "He said that I didn't know anything about the drugs and it was all him…he…he took the fall and now they have him locked away in some jail called Sona."

Lincoln nodded, taking in the information. Mahone had taken the fall for the girl. He had fallen on the sword and saved her. He had done something selfless. Clearly Alex did feel something for the woman stood opposite Lincoln. He took a second before scratching the back of his head.

"Yeah, well, that's where Michael has ended up."

"What?" Clara asked, well and truly shocked at that as Lincoln nodded.

"We were ready to escape when that man…Kim…showed up. Sara shot him but Michael took the fall for it," Lincoln said. "They dragged him off to Sona tonight. I'm going to visit him in the morning to find out what the hell I need to do."

Shaking her head slowly as a clap of thunder echoed in the sky, Clara felt the first raindrop as Lincoln looked down to her.

"Listen, I have a room booked a couple of blocks from here. Come back to the hotel with me before it starts raining."

"Why on earth would I do that?" Clara demanded from him.

"Because I'm not your enemy," he said to her. "I'm not your enemy and we both know that The Company are probably still after you. Do you think you'll be safe if you're on your own?"

"I can defend myself," she said and Lincoln motioned to the ripped dress she wore and the bandage showing through it.

"Yeah, that's why you got shot," he scoffed. "Just come back with me or don't, it's your choice. I have bigger things to worry about."

Clara huffed as he began to turn on his heel and walk away from her. It took a moment before she cursed under her breath and began to move after him, following him down the street as she looked up to him and he glanced back down to her.

"This doesn't mean I agree with what your brother did to Alex."

"Alex shot our father," Lincoln told her. "He can rot in that jail, I couldn't care less about him. My brother is in there and I need to get him out. You can stay the night and then go back to worrying about your beloved Alex Mahone."

Clara ground her teeth together as she followed Lincoln back to the hotel and looked around, a part of her swearing that they were being followed.

…

"Defending him will only end up getting you killed."

Lincoln spoke to her as she stood in the bathroom, listening to the storm raging on outside. Her hands gripped hold of the sides of the sink as she kept herself wrapped up in a towel. She had showered and had nothing else to change into except the ripped dress she had worn there.

She knew that she should go and find something else to wear the following morning, but she had other things on her mind for the time being. It took a moment before she left the bathroom and looked to Lincoln who was perched on the edge of the sofa, a gun resting on the table as he kept his eyes fixed on it.

"He's…I'm not saying it anymore because I get that you're pissed with him," Clara said, standing in the doorway as she held her hands up in defence. "I would be pissed off with him if he had killed my father and I get that, okay? But you need to understand what he has gone through."

"No," Lincoln shook his head. "I refuse to understand what he did."

"Because you're innocent?" Clara asked, arching her brow at him as she kept her hand to her chest, making sure the towel stayed there. "I know what you did, Lincoln. You might not have shot the President's brother, but you went there with the intent to do it. Besides, you've been caught up in some dodgy business."

Lincoln couldn't deny that. He said nothing as Clara shrugged her shoulders at him, knowing that she had him on that one. The only reason why he hated Alex was because of what he had done to his father and what he had been forced to do.

"But I couldn't pull the trigger," Lincoln said. "He can."

"He's had to," Clara retorted back to him and he remained quiet. "You have a son. What would you do to protect him? Anything, I'd guess."

"He's not a part of this," Lincoln said and Clara nodded.

"I know," she agreed, "but I'm asking you what you would have done."

Lincoln went mute as he watched her turn around and move back into the bathroom. But that was when he saw them. The towel covered the majority of her back, but not her legs. He saw the scars there and his eyes widened, wondering if that was what The Company had done to her.

…

Clara had let Lincoln go off and do his own thing while she had caught a cab down to Sona. She had bought some new clothes before going there, dressed now in a long black dress without sleeves. She had sunglasses on her face as she looked to the prison, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. It took her a moment before she gathered the strength to walk into the main hut outside of the gates.

"I'm here to see Alexander Mahone," she declared, moving to the desk as a guard looked up to her, sweat pooling down his forehead as he adjusted his cap to get a look at her.

"American," he spoke. "We don't get many Americans down here. Sign in here."

She moved to pick the pen up and scribbled her name down in the book before the guard motioned at another guard. Turning to look to him, she followed him outside and into a set of gates. Looking around, she saw the watch towers before daring to look straight ahead. There was a door leading from the prison, leading to an area where the meshed wire stopped them from going any further.

Motioning to the wire, the guard moved off to the side, clutching onto his weapon as Clara looked down the line of the visitation area. There was a young woman further down the line alongside a man, speaking to a young boy who looked no older than twenty. Clara gulped. What the hell was this place?

It took a moment before she heard the doors open and then she saw him. He stumbled out of the door, hand to his forehead to block out the sun as he moved towards the fence. He had only looked up to see her once before averting his gaze back to the floor.

He stood before her as she pulled her sunglasses from her eyes and placed them on top of her head. He was dressed in the clothes he had been arrested in, his face full of sweat and his hair stuck up at various angles. Clara gulped at the sight of him. He looked rough.

"Talk to me," Clara urged him. "Alex…"

"It's a hell hole," he spoke, a bitter laugh at the end of his statement. "The prison is an absolute hell hole."

"I heard about how the guards cleared out," she told him and he nodded at her.

"Yeah, there's an internal hierarchy," he responded to her and she gulped at hearing that. "One man runs it all…he dragged us new ones in there this morning to explain the rules. I'm just keeping my head down."

"And Scofield?" Clara asked and Alex scoffed, looking over to the side as Clara took a step closer and Alex shook his head hastily before looking back to Clara.

"I wanted to form an alliance with him," he informed her. "We need to survive in here somehow. He basically told me to get lost."

"I'm going to try to do everything I can to get you out," Clara said to him. "If we can get him to admit that he set us up-"

"-It would never work," Alex said. "Especially not now I confessed to it."

Clara went silent at that, her gaze meeting Alex's as he spoke those words. He had done it to save her and she didn't know how she could ever thank him. She supposed the only way would be to try to save him now. Clara took another step closer, her hands wrapping around the wire as Alex watched her make the motion, wondering if he had ever seen her look so determined before.

"I'll make this right," Clara said. "I will find a way to get you out of here."

He shook his head. "If you get me out of here then I'll just end up back in the States in another jail…there's nothing for me now, Clara."

"Don't say that," Clara demanded from him and Alex shrugged at her.

"It's true," he told her. "By now Sullins and Wheeler will have all the evidence they need to know what I did…all because Franklin couldn't kill himself. He will have told them what I told him to do…and then there's Shales."

"Franklin?" Clara asked him. "Isn't he the one who turned himself in for his daughter?"

"Yeah," Alex said. "And I told him the only way he could keep his family safe was to hang himself. He had the rope, but it failed and I imagine Sullins has got to him and asked him what I told him to do."

Clara looked away, a feeling of nausea taking over her as Alex watched her. He could almost see the disgust in her face before he spoke.

"I'm glad he failed," Alex whispered. "And if he gets out and gets to be with his family…then that's good. That was the hardest thing I had to do, I think."

"Christ," Clara mumbled.

"Still want to help me now?" Alex asked of her. "Clara, you've defended me more than anyone else ever has, but we both know I'm not a good man. A good man would never have shot Shales in the first place and got himself into this mess. Perhaps this is what I deserve."

"Don't say that," Clara whispered and Alex shrugged.

"We both know it's true," he responded. "Listen to me, Clara…come on…look at me."

She managed to move her gaze to his as Alex looked her in the eye and all she could see was a broken man. Alex was completely broken and there was nothing she could do to fix that. All he did was move his hand over hers through the fence.

"Forget me," he urged her. "Get away from here and forget me."

"No," Clara shook her head. "You can't ask me to do that."

"I can and I have," he replied. "I am serious, Clara. I want you to go. I don't want you to waste anymore time on me."

"No," she repeated, "after everything you did for me…how can you ask me to leave you? You're here because you took the blame for it…you're here because you came to me when I was stupid enough to go after Shales. I can't forget you. I won't. I'm going to do what I can to help."

Alex could only look at her before releasing his hand from hers and backing away from the fence, his voice low and encouraging as he spoke to her.

"Forget me," he told her again. "I've put you through enough already…just go."

"No," Clara said as Alex turned around and began to walk back into Sona. She clung onto the fence as she called after him, but he didn't turn around to look to her. "Alex! Alex!"

He disappeared from her sight then and Clara could only release the wire in defeat, her hands going to grab her sunglasses from the top of her head as she walked away, promising that she would not leave him in there to rot. She couldn't do that to him.

….

A/N: Once again, thanks to Evie for reviewing. Do let me know if you're reading!


	16. Chapter 16

Clara sat down in the lawyer's office, her legs folded over each other as she looked at the lawyer who sat across from her. He wore a white suit that stuck to his back, his blue tie dangling halfway down his shirt. He said nothing for a moment, looking over the folder that he had in his fingertips.

"It seems Senor Mahone is in a lot of trouble, si?" he asked of her and Clara shrugged her shoulders, leaning forwards as she listened to the man. He said nothing for another moment, going back to looking at the case notes he had. "It says here that he confessed to everything."

"Only because he was trying to protect me," Clara responded with haste. "You see, there is this man, Michael Scofield, and he planted the drugs in the boat."

"And why would he do that?" the man asked and Clara gulped, peering down to her lap where she was playing with her sunglasses.

"It's complicated," Clara whispered and the man let out a low whistle.

"It always is," he informed her and she rolled her eyes before he shut the folder and dropped it onto his desk. "I'm afraid without any evidence then it's going to be very difficult to prove, especially because he has gone and confessed to the crime."

"But if you could just talk to him and get his side of the story…" Clara trailed off, unsure of what that would do considering her story was exactly the same as his story. She shook her head and the man sighed, sensing the distress she was in as she placed her sunglasses on top of her head and her hands gripped the sides of the wooden chair she sat in.

"I understand this is difficult," he told her. "Your husband-"

"-He is not my husband," Clara interrupted him, shaking her head back and forth. "But he is innocent. He never smuggled drugs."

"I'm afraid, as I have said, that proving that following his confession will be nearly impossible to prove," he informed her. "Besides, the soonest court date I can get will be the end of May."

Clara's brow furrowed and she frowned, leaning forwards again. "The end of May? It's June…"

"Next year."

"Next year!" Clara echoed, voice high pitched as she shrieked and he sat back in his chair as he watched her stand up, arms flapping by her side as she looked around, completely disorientated with what she had heard. He continued to watch her for a few moments before he too stood.

"There is nothing that I can do about that," he told her and she scoffed.

"Clearly," she spoke in a low voice. "So what do I do? I cannot let him stay in that place for a year…he might not even make it…"

"I'm sorry," he responded and Clara turned on her heel and began to move away from the office, leaving the lawyer calling after her. She didn't listen to him. Instead she kept on moving while wondering how the hell she was supposed to tell Alex that he could be stuck there for a year.

…

Clara sat in the suite of the hotel room she was staying in. She had left Lincoln to his own devices, choosing to find her own room. She had bought new clothes and had paid for the room on her credit card, knowing full well she could afford it. She had even called work and told them that she would be gone for a while. They had warned her she was on dangerous ground, but she didn't care. She had other things to worry about and if worst came to the worst then she could sell the house and downsize.

Of course, Tom had been calling her, leaving her voicemail after voicemail. She had listened to some of them, but mainly she chose to ignore them. Some were pleading while others sounded pretty violent. She deleted them and never called him back. He didn't deserve her time right now.

It had been three days since Alex had been locked away and Clara had not been to see him to tell him the news. Instead she had gone to other lawyers who had told her the same thing. Alex was not getting out of there anytime soon. Silence engulfed her as she sat on the bed and considered her options, knowing what she could do, but worrying that it might not be the right thing.

As she thought, the knock on the door alerted her to someone's presence. Moving, she was cautious before she heard the voice on the other side of the wood.

"Clara, it's Lincoln."

She opened it then, letting the man in as he stepped around her and she closed the door. He wore a white top and brown pants, hands holding his head as he looked to her and she knew something had happened.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The Company," he told her. "There's a reason why Michael was kept in that prison. I tried to get him transferred…they said it could be done…that Michael was acting in self-defence, and then out of nowhere The Company sent someone who told me he wouldn't be going."

"What?" Clara asked as Lincoln paced by the window. "Why are they keeping him in there?"

"They need him to break a man out," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know who this man is, but there was this woman there and she knows him. She had this book with her."

"A bird book?" Clara asked as Lincoln pulled it from a pocket and tossed it to her, watching her catch it in her fingertips as she flipped the pages rapidly and it was filled with drawings and notes. "What does all of this mean?"

"No idea," Lincoln said. "But that's not the only problem I've got."

"It gets worse?" Clara wondered, holding the book by her side as Lincoln scoffed.

"You don't know the half of it," he told her. "The Company have my son and Sara. They're keeping them hostage until Michael breaks out this Whistler guy. I don't know why he's so special or what they want from him…only that he has something of theirs."

"Christ," Clara mumbled, perching on the end of the bed as she let her head fall into her hands and Lincoln watched her with intrigue as she closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly together. "So what are you going to do?"

"No idea," Lincoln admitted. "There's this woman in The Company who is keeping tabs on me. She's called Susan and is proving to be a real pain in my arse."

"I don't know what to suggest," Clara shrugged. "I mean, what do you want me to do?"

"Michael said that you know someone in The Company," Lincoln said and Clara stood up, tired of this conversation as she began to move to the other side of the bed. "If you could-"

"-I don't know who it is," Clara interrupted him. "You were there when I asked Agent Kim who it was and he didn't tell me."

"And you have got no idea who it is?" Lincoln said, his voice laced with disbelief as he stepped towards her, clearly trying to intimidate her, but failing miserably as she squared up to him. She kept her head held high, her gaze meeting his. "No idea at all?"

"None at all," Clara said. "It's not my ex because he is more concerned with selling our house than anything else…and I have an uncle and a cousin in LA who work in some technology company. That is everyone I know and none of them are part of this secret organisation."

"Well someone has to be," Lincoln replied.

"Then I don't know who they are!" Clara snapped back at him. "Listen, Lincoln, I'm sorry for you. I really am sorry…but I am not getting involved with this. I can't help you. I have other things to worry about."

Lincoln frowned as he took a step back and Clara did her best not to feel too guilty at what she had just said to him as she turned away. Moving over to the window, she looked out of it as Lincoln spoke to her.

"You're not going to get him out," he told her. "Michael told me he's not the same man who he was in there…something to do with withdrawals."

Clara inhaled sharply then, knowing full well what Alex must be going through. She had seen it with her sister on multiple occasions. There would be the nausea and then the feeling of hot sweats. No doubt he might even feel slightly delirious.

"Yeah," Clara said. "He was on a drug of some kind."

"And you knew?"

"I knew," Clara said, "but the problem with addicts is that it's impossible to make them stop unless you can get them locked away somewhere to help them. Does Alex seem like the kind of man who would let you help him?"

"Not really," Lincoln said, no sympathy in his voice. "Listen, I've got to go and meet this Susan chick. If you think of anything about The Company then let me know, got it?"

"Got it," Clara agreed. "Lincoln," she called when he neared the door and he looked back to her.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"That email your brother sent me; what was in it?"

"Oh," Lincoln said, struggling to believe how that all felt like a very long time ago. "There was a recording of Caroline Reynolds and her brother, proving that he was alive after his death had been faked…but also that the two of them were lovers."

Her eyes widened at hearing that as Lincoln watched her expression turn to one of shock and he nodded.

"Michael thought with you being a former journalist then you'd have contacts."

"I would have at one time," Clara answered him sadly. "Sorry, that's probably the last thing on your mind right now."

"Yeah," was all he offered before opening the door.

She remained stood there, waiting until he left so that she could grab her bag and head back to Sona.

…

She went through the usual routine of signing in and being led to the visitation area. She waited with patience until Alex came out and she knew full well that what Lincoln had told her had been true. He was shaking, his hands constantly moving around his body: pushing through his hair, fiddling with his shirt. He had stubble growing on his chin and his eyes were flitting around everywhere.

"Alex," Clara greeted him and he looked anywhere but at her.

"Clara," he responded. "I thought I told you to go."

"You don't get to make choices for me, Alex," Clara deadpanned and he did look at her then as she saw the defeat in his gaze. "I decide what I do and I am not leaving Panama until I have helped you."

"There's no helping me," Alex said.

"Well, I went to see some lawyers," Clara told him, "and they weren't exactly forthcoming with information or even that helpful. You should never have told the police that you did it. I tried to tell them that you were going to take the fall to save me, but that you were set up."

"And what did they say?" Alex asked, stepping forwards as Clara looked away and Alex knew from the way she was chewing down on her lip that the news wasn't what they wanted. She said nothing and Alex looked down to the ground.

"I've got no hope, huh?" he asked of her and she brought her gaze back to his.

"They have a date for trial," Clara said in a small voice. "It's the end of May."

He frowned. "It's the middle of June."

She let him work it out on his own as she sighed and moved closer, almost as though that would offer him some comfort. She moved her hands to wrap around the bars as Alex turned on the spot, unable to stop himself from moving his hands to his head and holding it tightly.

"Next year," he whispered.

"I went to every lawyer in Panama City and they all said the same thing," Clara informed him. "I'm running out of ideas, Alex. I don't know what more I can do…I mean…the only thing I can think of is calling someone for you in the bureau."

"No," Alex said, shaking his head back and forth. "You cannot do that."

"Why not?" Clara asked from him. "It's all in the news about how this mysterious organisation set Lincoln up. He's been exonerated. That Paul Kellerman came forwards and he told the court everything…if you did the same…backed up what he has told them, then maybe they will let you out."

"There's no chance of that happening," Alex scoffed. "They'll just take me to another jail."

"Perhaps," Clara muttered, "but wouldn't that be better than staying here?"

He shrugged, not offering her any response as she sighed lowly and shook her head, watching as Alex glanced down to the floor. He didn't say anything for another moment before he looked up to Clara, his eyes wide and pleading as he spoke.

"I…I know I told you to go," Alex said to her, "but…I need you…"

She knew exactly where this conversation was going. She had heard her sister mutter the same words to her years ago. She had heard how she would tell her how much she needed her before begging her for drugs. She would plead for her to just get her some and then she would finish. One last hit, she used to call it. Clara shook her head at hearing that, but Alex moved to grab hold of her hand through the bars.

"Please, Clara."

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "I am not smuggling you anything in here."

"I need them," Alex said, his voice frightfully more aggressive as his grip on her increased. "I can't cope, Clara…I won't make it without them…please…I know you want to help me."

She managed to pull her hand away. "Not by enabling you," Clara said with a grimace. "Going cold turkey will be the best thing for you and you know it. Christ, I should have helped you when I first found out, but I knew you would never listen."

"Clara," Alex spoke again as she backed away from the fence, holding her hands up in defence of herself as she backed off.

"No," she said. "I will do everything I can to help you, Alex, but getting you drugs isn't the answer."

She turned on her heel and began to walk away, ignoring the noise of Alex yelling her name as he grabbed hold of the gate and began to tug on it, his behaviour erratic. Clara only turned around when she heard gunshots and her hair whipped over her shoulder, her mouth agape as she saw a cloud of dust form by the fence near Alex's feet. She feared the worst for a moment, but the former agent simply held his hands up in defence and backed away, looking downwards, almost as if he was ashamed by himself.

…

Alex knew that Clara had been right. Deep down he knew that he had to do this, but knowing something and feeling something were two different things. His entire body ached and he could do nothing but shake, his mind whirling as he struggled to focus on anything. He had gone back to the empty cell he had found and rested against the wall on the bed, his legs bent and his hand holding his mouth.

He didn't know how long he had been sat there for until he heard someone enter his space. He took a quick glance over to the man before looking away again. Whistler. Alex had thought that James Whistler had been his chance to find freedom, but he had been wrong. There had been a rumour that if someone found Whistler for Lechero then they could have their day to fight for their freedom. Alex had found him, but the bounty on his head had disappeared as soon as Michael Scofield had done a deal with the King of Sona.

Now all Alex felt was despair. He wanted nothing more than to tell the man to get away from him as he stood in the doorway of his cell.

"What do you want?" Alex asked of him.

"To let you know that you don't have to watch your back…so long as I don't have to watch mine. I don't begrudge what you did. I would have done the same in your position."

Whistler moved further into the room and Alex looked to him. The man had stubble covering his neck and chin, his eyes were almost like Scofield's; full of cunning and plots. His hair was short and his forehead covered in sweat. The white shirt and jeans he wore were as filthy as anything else in the prison.

"Besides," he continued, sitting on the bed opposite Alex's, "you never know when you might need a friend."

Alex kept his hand to his mouth as the man made himself comfy on the bunk, adopting a similar position on the bed to Alex.

"So where you from?" he asked of Alex.

"Ohio," Alex answered, voice low as he kept his gaze on the bed.

"Kalbarri," he responded.

"Australia," Alex said. "Some good fishing places there."

"You've been?" Whistler sounded surprised as Alex nodded his head. "Small world," Whistler responded when it became clear Alex wasn't going to answer him. "So what are you doing in Panama?"

"That's a long story," Alex said, shifting slightly on the bed as he kept moving his hand to and from his mouth as Whistler clicked his fingers.

"You're an agent, right?" Whistler said, pointing to Alex. "I was watching that Scofield and I was trying to figure out where I had seen him before…and then you…you're the one hunting him down."

"Small world." Alex concluded, flashing a sarcastic smile as Whistler scratched his nose.

"What you doing then? Are you trying to get him out of here?" he asked.

"That's not really what I do anymore," Alex said, not in the mood to talk to the man sat opposite him as the man nodded his head.

"So what is he about? Scofield?"

Alex laced his fingers together, pushing his hands forward and stretching as he spoke back. "Why do you want to know?" he enquired.

"Just intrigued," he answered back. "Just like to know the kind of people I'm hanging around with."

Alex thought for a second, tilting his head to the side. "I suppose that depends why you're dealing with him," Alex responded.

"As I said, you never know when-"

"-You'll need a friend," Alex interrupted, eyeing Whistler with caution as he did so and the man watched him back, both of them clearly wondering what the others game was. But Alex wasn't in the mood for games. He kept on talking. "The thing about Scofield is that he will do anything for people who he cares for…loves…but if he doesn't care then…you can fill in the blanks."

"Yes, I can," Whistler responded. "So I guess you ended up on the wrong side."

"Hm," Alex grunted and Whistler stood up, hands on his hips as he began to move to the doorway.

"I just wanted to come by to-"

"-You came by because you wanted information on Scofield, but that's fine," Alex said. "You do what you got to do and I'll do what I've got to do."

Whistler nodded and then began to move off, but he clicked his fingers once more and his hand went around the bars of the cell as he looked back to Alex.

"I saw you in visitation this morning with a woman," he told him. "Good looking…friend of yours?"

Alex gulped and then looked away, remembering how he had treated Clara earlier on. He said nothing for a second as Whistler continued to watch him. He only spoke after a second, brows rising on his forehead as he did so.

"My only one."

…

Standing on the balcony of the hotel room, Clara's hands held her cell phone tightly as she thought of her earlier conversation with Alex. He had not been himself. He had not been the Alex she knew. Then again, addicts never were the same when they were going cold turkey. Tossing the phone from one hand to the other, Clara looked into the distance where she could see the sea.

If Michael was breaking out this Whistler then there was a chance he could break Alex out. Of course, Clara knew that chance was slim. Michael hated Alex. He hated him for everything he had done to him and she did not blame him for that. Besides, the chances of escaping were slim. If Michael made it out of the prison walls then he would most certainly be shot.

Clara took a deep breath. Did she try and persuade Michael to help Mahone? Or would she be wasting her time? Closing her eyes as she leant on the railing, she knew her answer. Opening her eyes and typing in a number in her phone, she dialled it and waited for someone to answer.

"Hello? Can I speak to an Agent Lang, please?"

…

Night was slowly falling over the prison and Alex had barely moved from his bunk. He had paced in between the beds a few times, his hands tugging at his hair as he tried not to think about the way his stomach was churning. He couldn't be ill. He couldn't be ill and have people stare at him.

And so he went for a walk, knowing who he wanted to seek out. He found him quickly, standing by a window covered in bars, his long grey top covered in sweat at the collar. Resting an arm on the wall, he looked outside as he spoke.

"How are you, Michael?" he wondered from him.

"Better than you, I'd guess."

Alex chuckled and looked over to the man. "That's fascinating," Alex said, "because I admit, I am pretty nervous over everything, but you…you're very calm inside of here."

Michael took a deep breath as Alex continued to look around at the people around them, making sure they weren't looking, but then he looked back to Michael, staring at him right in the eye as he spoke.

"Is that because you don't intend to stay for too long? What is it? You've got a check out date all planned?"

"That's none of your business, Alex," Michael said. "I told you when we came in here that there was nothing for us to discuss."

Michael tried to move off, but Alex was quick, moving to stand his way and block him. "But I have a theory. You see, I think The Company wanted you down here in Panama, but they wanted you in here…and for some completely weird reason, you really care about Whistler. By the way, the feeling is completely mutual. He cares too. So, here we go, you have some special talent to The Company which means they want you alive. Any idea what that special talent is, Michael? Something to do with breaking out of places, perhaps?"

Michael remained calm as Alex's voice continued to verge on the end of hysteria. He looked over to him, gaze even and eyes narrowed as he spoke back to Alex.

"I think you should find another pill because you're sounding crazy." Michael declared.

"So if I had killed him…Whistler…then you wouldn't have cared?" Alex demanded, eyes wide as he moved closer to Michael's face.

He began to walk off then, but Michael spoke up. "I think the question is: would The Company care? What would they do to you? To the ones you care about…to Clara?"

Alex moved forwards again as he spoke her name, grabbing hold of Michael by the collar before pushing him against a wall, his arm going over his throat as Michael remained still, knowing that Alex wouldn't hurt him. He didn't have it in him in this place. Besides, if Michael offered him a chance out then he wouldn't do anything to jeopardise that.

"How dare you even mention her name," Alex snarled. "After what you did…"

"I didn't know she was there," Michael defended himself. "I thought that she was smart enough to stay away from you."

"Yeah, well, she was with me," Alex said, eyeing Michael with suspicion, "and she was shot and arrested…but now she won't go. She won't leave this godforsaken place because she's trying to get me out."

"She won't succeed," Michael said back to him. "Besides, even if she can save you from this hell hole then she can't save you from yourself."

Alex released Michael then and took a step back as he watched him stand up, hands going to his hips.

"What is it, Alex?" Michael demanded from him. "I met her and she is nothing like you. Lincoln seems convinced that she has some deep feelings for you…feelings that will probably end up getting her killed."

Shaking his head, he refused to listen to anymore from Michael, but the man just kept on going.

"Clara is a good person," Michael said. "I know that. I could see it when I met her…so you drag her into all of this and end up getting her to protect you-"

"-Just like you and Tancredi?" Alex demanded from Michael, taking one step closer to him. "Hm, Michael? What about Sara? She chased around after you when you escaped and she even helped you escape…that overdose? What? Do you not feel bad about that?"

Michael felt his hands ball into fists as he came to toe to toe with Alex, looking at him as he spoke, his voice low and each word pronounced and deliberate. "You never speak of Sara again. What we have is different to what you and Clara have."

"Yeah? And why is that?"

"Because I love her," Michael answered him. "Because I would do anything for her. You only use, Clara…use her to get what you want."

Alex arched his brows. "Is that what you think?" he wondered from Michael. "You've got no idea…did your brother tell you what I did? Did he tell you why Clara is free right now and not locked up in some shithole?"

Michael remained silent. He knew that Clara was free, but Lincoln had not said how she was free. Mahone stepped back then, a smile of disbelief on his face as he sucked in a deep breath.

"She is free because I took the blame for your little setup," he informed Michael in a dark tone. "I took the blame to save her."

Looking away, Michael kept his hands on his hips as Alex walked backwards and away from him.

"Maybe get your facts straight before you jump to conclusions, Michael," Alex concluded and began to move deeper into the prison, hands holding the back of his neck as he went and thought of what Clara was doing on the outside.

…


	17. Chapter 17

Clara didn't know what to do. She had called Agent Lang and told her that she was willing to tell her the truth, but she wanted her to come to Panama and make assurances that Alex would be freed from Sona. She had told her that she would have to bring Sullins, the agent in charge of Internal Affairs. Clara had agreed, remembering how Alex had mentioned not liking the man, but she doubted he could hate him more than Wheeler.

She hadn't been to the prison in over a day, unable to go back and look at Alex in that cage. She knew he would still be going through withdrawals and she didn't want to see that. She didn't want to listen to him begging her to get him drugs. He needed to know that he had something worth fighting for. He had something that would get him through this period.

Knowing exactly what would do the trick, she was about to search for Pam Mahone's number, but she closed her phone. Pam had no idea that her husband was incarcerated and Clara doubted Alex was the one who wanted her to know. But the truth was, Clara knew that the only way of him getting through would be with her help; knowing that she was outside waiting for him. That would be incentive.

Pacing her room, Clara slumped down her bed, hand moving down her side and feeling the bandage over her wound that was hidden beneath her dress. If she was going to be honest, the gunshot had hurt like hell for a while, but she was slowly forgetting about it. Instead she let her thoughts go back to Alex. She spent a lot of her time thinking about him.

The more she thought about him the more she thought about what Lincoln had said to her that day in the warehouse. Shaking her head, she stood up and brushed her fingertips through her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail and pulling the bobble from her wrist to it, securing it.

"I'm not in college," Clara mumbled to herself, trying to convince herself what she was saying was honest. "Having a crush on Alex Mahone…ridiculous…you know what the man's done, Clara."

She continued her pacing before dropping her hands to her hips. "And you also defended him. You're still trying to save him. That does not mean you fancy him."

She stopped her pacing, standing in front of the floor length mirror built into the wardrobe as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Taking in her appearance, she shook her head and looked herself in the eye. "Besides, how could he ever fancy someone like me?"

…

He had kept quiet as he conducted his meeting with Susan. The woman had sat there and told him how she had been unimpressed with his rescue attempts. Lincoln had set out the previous night on a rescue mission to save his son and Sara, but his plot had been foiled. It had been because he had been caught in the act that Sara's head now sat in a box in the basement of the hotel. Lincoln had broken down, unable to tell Michael when he had gone to visit him that morning. He had gone to see Susan afterwards and she had told him how it had been foolish of him to go against them. She had tried to tell him how she had not wanted to take Sara's head from her body. But Lincoln couldn't listen to her.

He knew she had the upper hand and she had his son in her custody. He had told her how he would do anything she wanted and she had said that was the wise option. He had told her how Michael had a plan, but they needed the gravedigger who worked at the prison on their side.

But then she requested the bird book. She requested the real book, knowing that he had given her a fake one. He had given it to her, telling her that he didn't understand it anyway. The rest of the day had been spent putting the plan Michael was conducting into action.

Of course, Michael had no idea about the situation on the outside. He was still stuck on the inside and he had asked about whether or not Mahone had taken the fall to save Clara. Lincoln had shrugged, acting as though it was nothing as he agreed that was what had happened. But Michael knew that Mahone was sniffing around. He wasn't stupid, even though he was suffering from drug withdrawals.

That was why he went to Mahone that day and told him he was in. He found him in his cell, seeing how his hair was flat on his head and sweat pouring from his forehead and running down his face.

"I was thinking about what we discussed yesterday," Michael had spoken. "And you're in."

Mahone looked shocked for a brief second. "I'm in?"

"Unless you don't want to be?" Michael retorted, resting his arm over the top bunk as Mahone leant to the side of it.

Nodding, he gulped once and spoke; "So what's the plan?"

"I'm on it," Michael said, "but I need you to do something in the meantime."

"What?" Mahone wondered.

"I need a pen," Michael said.

Tilting his head in a confused manner, Alex stepped closer to Michael. "A pen?"

"That's what I said," Michael responded.

"Why?"

"I need to alter some documents and it needs to be a black pen," Michael answered him. "But do you know what else I need? I need you to get it together because right now you're attracting some unwanted attention in here with your fidgety attitude."

Alex shook his head, almost as though he was trying to shake off his problems. But he nodded at Michael and agreed before stating that he could get himself under control. Michael didn't look convinced about that, but Alex had simply turned away and let his legs carry his body to move to the wall, holding it for a moment before Bellick disturbed him.

He had tried to get on his side, but Alex had told him to go away. He had only wanted to know what him and Scofield had been discussing earlier. Alex had told him to mind his own business before going in search of a black pen, looking around frantically. But then the hallucinations had started.

He kept on seeing him everywhere he went. He was in his head, telling him not to trust Scofield. He was sat on bunks in cells, looking at him with those questioning eyes. Alex tried to shake it off, his head moving back and forth as he continued on his hunt for his pen. It wasn't real. None of it was real and he knew that. He just had to keep on pushing.

…

The next time Clara visited Alex, she had been expecting him to be even more edgy than when she had last seen him. She had prepared herself, keeping her face stoic and her eyes covered with her sunglasses as she watched him make the all too familiar walk towards her. But she saw something different. He wasn't shaking. He was almost calm as he stood before her. Gulping, he managed to look her in the eye without letting his eyes flitter around.

And then she knew. Clara was no fool. If Alex had no access to drugs then he would still be tetchy. It didn't take a day to get over the withdrawal symptoms. She knew that he had been lying to her. Biting down on her tongue, she turned to glance up to the sun, her cheeks tinting red as neither of them spoke.

Alex knew that she knew. He knew that Clara was observant. She used to be an investigative journalist; it was in her job to read people and pick up on anything suspicious. She was like Alex in that manner.

But she didn't know how desperate he had been. He had been seeing Haywire, unable to block the man's image from his mind and complete his job. He had struggled to get through the day without wanting to curl into a ball and scream. But he had to be strong. Michael had given him a task.

"You're an idiot," was all that Clara offered when she finally looked at him, but he couldn't see her eyes thanks to the sunglasses she wore. "So what is it? Hmm? I knew the prison system was corrupt so I shouldn't be shocked you managed to find something."

"You have no idea," Alex said to her and she did step forward then, pointing at him as her eyes narrowed.

"I know exactly what it is like, you selfish arsehole," she spat at him. "Do you think this is the answer? It was a quick fix. It isn't going to help you in the long run. It's just going to hurt you and everyone who cares about you."

"Yeah?" Alex asked her. "Well I'm not seeing many of those people around here."

Clara chewed down on her tongue, keeping her thoughts to herself before shaking her head and remembering why she had come to visit him.

"I called Agent Lang," she said and saw the shock on his face as his mouth fell open and his eyes widened. "She is coming down to Panama and I am going to tell her everything…she is bringing Sullins down too. I think they're looking to strike a deal."

"You had no right to do that," Alex seethed at her and she finally pulled her sunglasses from her face and looked him dead in the eye, refusing to back down or show him any form of emotion other than anger. "You're not…Christ, Clara…"

"What?" Clara demanded from him. "I am trying to get you out of here. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes," he nodded with haste, "but not like that. I…Michael has a plan…"

He watched as she faltered for a second, the mask she was trying so hard to wear failing her as she let her teeth chew her lip and her eyes hold some kind of worry. Moving to the fence, Alex wrapped his hands around it as he spoke.

"You know."

She took a moment to compose herself and she shrugged, trying to act nonchalant.

"I know," she said. "His brother told me, but I didn't think he would ever have told you about it."

"He did and you didn't," Alex said and Clara sneered.

"Because the chances of him making it out of here are slim," she hissed at him, her eyes flittering over his face as she took in his dishevelled appearance. "You know that as well as I do. So what? He gets into no man's land and then what? He gets shot…you'd get shot…"

"Getting shot is better than spending years locked up in a cell."

"Don't say that."

"Why not?" Alex snapped back. "This isn't your life on the line, Clara, so whatever you told Lang…just tell her I'm not interested in a deal. I'm not interested in whatever her or that arsehole Sullins is offering me."

"I won't do that," Clara responded, chin held high and in defiance.

"Fine, then I'll tell them when they come here," Alex said. "You had no right to do that, Clara. Going to them…thinking you know best about me…when you know nothing. You know nothing at all."

Clara scoffed. "Well you've certainly changed your tune," she informed him. "What was it when we were locked in that holding cell? How you cared about me? Or what about the other times when you told me I was the only one who understood?"

Pushing his hands through his hair, he felt himself continue to grow with anger.

"What does it matter?" he asked, hands moving to flap by his side as he began to move from one foot to the other. "You're not my wife, Clara. You're not someone who should be making decisions for me…you're just someone I've tried to protect…maybe Lincoln was right with what he said, hmm? Maybe you've begun to have some deeper feelings? Is that why you won't leave me alone?"

Backing away one step, Clara shook her head, her hands shaking as she spoke, her voice faltering. "You're flattering yourself," she told him.

"Yeah, well, maybe it explains why you're always sniffing around. I get it…I'm the only person in your lonely existence," Alex said and he knew as soon as he had spoken that he was being harsh and unnecessary.

Pulling her sunglasses onto her eyes, Clara concealed herself from him as she felt moisture begin to pool there and she pointed to him once more.

"And you?" she asked of him. "Why would I care so deeply for a man who talks to me with such contempt when all I have done is try to help him? Why would I want to care for someone who is quite clearly an addict? Do you forget, Alex? I know addicts. You say something horrid one minute and the next you're apologising. Well you know what? Forget it. You can deal with this mess on your own."

Turning on her heel, Clara began to move away from him, refusing to stand there and listen to anything else come from his mouth. She let herself sign out before she climbed into the cab and felt the tears begin to fall down her face.

…

Lincoln had finally put the plan into place. Granted, shooting the gravedigger had not actually been his initial plan, but once Susan discovered that he just wanted more money for letting Sucre take his place, she soon put an end to that. Besides, the gravedigger had recognised Sofia from her time visiting the prison and he had grown suspicious. Sucre was currently in the room sleeping and Sofia had gone back home while Lincoln had gone to the only place he could think of.

Sitting in the bar, he ordered himself a beer before looking around. That was when he saw her. She was sat on one of the tall chairs on the balcony outside, a large glass of white wine in her hand and the bottle on the tall table in front of her. She was looking at the view, her long hair tied in a bobble on the top of her head.

She had her hands wrapped around the wine glass, her elbows bent on the table. Lincoln picked up his beer and carried it outside, making himself known as he motioned to the chair opposite hers and she nodded her head, remaining silent as Lincoln took the seat and a swig of his beer, unbuttoning another button on his white shirt and shrugging out of his blazer.

"Your brother isn't really going to break out with Alex, is he?" Clara said in a low voice as Lincoln watched her, but she kept her eyes on the skyline in front of her.

"Probably not," Lincoln answered honestly. "Why? Are you going to run off and tell him?"

She scoffed then, taking two long gulps of the wine before putting the empty glass down and refilling it.

"I have no intention of going to see Alex anytime soon," Clara declared and Lincoln cocked his head.

"Why's that?"

She didn't answer him. Instead all she could do was look in front of her before she felt her eyes begin to water again. But she wasn't going to cry. She had shed too many tears over Alexander Mahone that afternoon. He didn't deserve anymore and she wasn't going to give him any. She knew that what he had said was because of the drugs. No doubt he would probably apologise to her, but she didn't know if she wanted to hear it.

Lincoln became convinced that Clara wasn't going to answer him and so he spoke to her.

"Sara's dead," he said, simply glad that he could get the confession off of his chest.

She did look at him then, horror on her face as Lincoln took another drink of his beer, relishing the taste and taking his time to look out over the skyline before them. Clara picked up her wine and drained the glass once more before speaking.

"I'm sorry," she said, her tone genuine. "I know I only met her once and even then I didn't know her…but I know she…she seemed kind."

"She was," Lincoln nodded in agreement. "She was the one who helped us get out of Fox River. Without her then I'd probably be dead too. Really, I owe her my life…"

Clara didn't know what more to say about that; instead she kept on sipping her wine as she thought of Sara Tancredi. The woman still had her entire life in front of her. She had been younger than Clara, barely even thirty. She had fallen in love with the wrong man. Clara would have scoffed at the thought, yet it did not seem appropriate. She knew all about falling in love with the wrong man. Tom was a good example of that.

"So how is the plan going?" Clara wondered and Lincoln shrugged.

"On track, I guess," he told her, "but Michael doesn't know about Sara."

"Why not?" Clara enquired.

"Because if he did then I don't know if he would break this Whistler guy out," Lincoln said, "and they've still got my son."

"Your son is his nephew," Clara reminded him. "I'm sure he would still do it. Besides, who is this Whistler guy? I never had a chance to ask Alex today."

"Some fisherman," Lincoln shrugged. "Apparently he took some guy on an expedition of some kind. Anyway, then some people came and demanded to know where he had taken them. Michael thinks it must have been The Company who came, but he isn't one hundred per cent sure. Anyway, that bird book of his acts as a logbook. He says it's the only way he can retrace his steps and take The Company to where he took that guy."

"And you believe that?" Clara wondered of him and he shrugged at her.

"I've heard weirder," he said and Clara did nod at hearing that.

"So, why is this guy so important? What was he doing on this fishing trip?"

"Taking some samples of the water," Lincoln said.

"So why is that important?" Clara asked.

"Again, no idea," Lincoln said, "and I'm struggling to care. All I want is my son back and The Company can have this guy. Anyway, that's all I know so far. I take it you've had no break through with thinking about who you might know in the organisation?"

"No," Clara said, popping her lips. "No idea and I'm not sticking around for much longer. I'll be gone soon enough…probably arrested."

"For what?" he wondered of her.

She took a deep breath. "I called Internal Affairs of the FBI," she told him. "They're coming to try to strike a deal with Alex, but he's telling them that he doesn't want a deal. He seems convinced that he can break out with Michael…but…I'm going to tell them about Shales. They were digging around when I was still in the States, no doubt they know everything now so that's me screwed."

"But you didn't shoot him."

"No," Clara said, "just helped hide his body and cover his murder up. I'd imagine you get sent to jail for that…besides, I told Alex I would take the blame for killing Shales to protect him."

"I wouldn't," Lincoln told her and she shrugged her shoulders at him.

"I don't know what to do," she admitted. "I still blame myself for where he is right now, even after what he said…the worst part is I know that he didn't mean it. I know that he didn't mean to hurt me, but he did because maybe he was right. Maybe he was right and I do care too much…but the way he said it…as if he was mocking me…as if anyone would ever want someone like me…"

Lincoln took another drink of his beer, shaking his head as he heard her speak. He watched as she drank her wine again, sipping on it this time as she bowed her head, taking a deep breath as she kept the glass tightly between her hands.

"He isn't right," Lincoln informed her. "There is nothing wrong with you…him, on the other hand…"

"I know," Clara said, "and I said that to him, but it still hurts and I don't know why."

"Because, for some reason beyond my understanding, you were falling for him," Lincoln said and Clara began to shake her head in protest again.

"No," she said stubbornly. "I wasn't…I mean…I care about what happens to him, but that's it…there's nothing else."

"You're sure about that?" Lincoln wondered.

"No," Clara admitted honestly, taking another drink of her wine. "But perhaps he was right. Perhaps I only cared because I am lonely…washed up and lonely."

Lincoln didn't exactly know what to say back to her as she continued to drink and he sat to her other side, watching her down the liquid as if there was no tomorrow. He bit down on his tongue as they both looked over the skyline before them and drank in silence, drowning their sorrows until they could be drowned no more.

…

Michael had taken a new cell and Mahone knew exactly what that meant when he had seen that he had left behind the black pen he had frantically searched to find. Alex was no fool. He knew when he was being betrayed and Michael Scofield was most certainly betraying him. That was why Alex had cornered him, his finger jabbing at his chest and warning him that he was part of this escape plan, whether or not he liked it.

Watching him with beady eyes, Michael had seen how he was acting in a much more composed manner. Clearly he had found some kind of drug to tide him over. But then what happened when the drugs stopped? Would he be able to carry on? Besides, who was supplying him, considering there was no money? Michael didn't ask. He didn't exactly care.

As night fell over Sona, Michael watched as Alex sat down on his bunk. He had been searching for Whistler, but the man seemed to be rather elusive when he needed to be.

"If you're in then you need to keep quiet," Michael warned Mahone.

"This isn't Fox River," Alex responded, remaining seated on his bunk as Michael entered, arms folded over his chest. "You could've formed a conga line out of there with the amount of people you broke out."

"Yeah, well, I don't intend to make the same mistake here," Michael said, flexing his fingers as he looked around the cell. "So just keep your mouth shut and you're in."

"Got it," Alex mumbled.

Michael tested Alex for a moment, looking for a flicker of emotion in his face. "My brother told me it was true…what you did for Clara."

"What of it?" Alex asked, turning to look to Michael as he spoke her name.

Alex could feel himself begin to sweat as he thought about Clara. He had been cruel to her that afternoon. He had said things he regretted and he wanted to tell her that. He had said something similar to her before, prior to when he had left for Panama. She had forgiven him, but Alex didn't know how forgiving she was feeling right now.

The worst part was that Alex had only said it because he wanted to get a reaction from her. That made him feel even more pathetic. He wanted to see how she reacted and she hadn't disappointed. Of course, he knew that he had made her angry and her retaliation had been right. Why would she care for someone like him? A drug addict and a killer. He was nothing more than that so he wasn't sure where he got off slating her and asking who would even love her. The problem with Clara was that Alex imagined it would be easy to love her. He had no doubt about that. She was kind, always putting him before anyone else. She was attractive, full of intelligence and not afraid to voice her opinion.

He needed to find some way to apologise to her because what he had said had been too much. He didn't even know where it had come from. He should have bit down on his tongue. He was just angry that she had called Lang when he had asked her not to, but he knew why she had done it. She thought that it was the safest course of action and he could see why if he had to be honest with himself.

"Just that…" Michael said. "I didn't think you had it in you."

"Yeah," Alex chuckled, his fist covering his mouth as he let his mind wander back to her. "Well she's better off without me."

"Lincoln said that she isn't going," Michael responded, "which could prove useful in the long run."

"Why?" Alex wondered.

"Because there's someone in The Company who cares about her," Michael said with a small nod. "Keeping her around could have its benefits if we need…well…leverage."

Standing up, Alex shook his head at Michael. "You're not using her."

Moving closer to Alex, Michael dropped his hands by his side, his fingers drumming on his thighs as he looked to Alex. "If I need to use her to free Sara then I will," Michael warned him. "I have no intention of hurting her, but just be warned that if I need her for my advantage then I have no problem of doing so."

"Then we have a bigger problem than we do now," Alex responded.

"Why, Alex, some might even say you care," Michael responded, voice sarcastic as Alex turned away, not wanting to listen anymore as he went to the window, his arm resting over the sill of it.

"I care more than I should," he muttered to himself, peering out the window. "Definitely more than I should."

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think!


	18. Chapter 18

Groaning in pain, Clara moved her hand to her head the following morning as the curtains struggled to contain the breaking sun. Her hand rubbed the skin there as she kept her gaze on the ceiling, wondering if the room truly was spinning. She struggled to remember much from the night before; only that she had gotten so drunk with Lincoln that she could hardly remember where she was or what was happening.

Sitting up slowly, she saw that she was still in the long dress she had been wearing the day before. Her eyes narrowed as she looked around, half expecting to see her things strewn around the room, but there was nothing. Letting her brow furrow, she looked on before letting out a shriek in surprise, her hand going to her mouth as she saw Lincoln sat on the sofa, pieces of paper in his fingertips.

"Morning," he grunted to her. "There's coffee on the bedside table."

Clara looked over, seeing where the coffee was, steam rising over its top. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stretched her neck before grabbing the cup and draining the contents, not bothering to complain about the lack of sugar inside of the drink.

"Thanks," Clara said once she had drained half of the cup. "How…what happened last night?"

Lincoln chuckled, standing up and looking to her as his hands remained on his hips. "You remember nothing?"

"I remember drinking too much," Clara said. "I suspect that is why my head hurts so much. Please tell me I didn't do anything too embarrassing."

Keeping his tongue between his teeth, Lincoln shook his head at her, glancing down to the floor. "Nothing," he lied to her. "I just didn't think you should be alone for the night in case you ended up being ill so I brought you back here. Your bag is on the chair."

She nodded at that before standing up, finishing the coffee and glancing over to Lincoln as he moved to look out the window, still holding the pieces of paper. He said nothing as Clara moved by him, her hand going to touch his arm for a moment before she grabbed her bag.

"Thank you," she said.

"Don't mention it," Lincoln urged her, watching her move towards the door and slip out of the suite.

He shook his head, keeping the informing to himself and wondering if she would remember. He had to drag her from the bar, his arm pulling at her waist as tears streamed down her face and she mumbled incoherent sentences, her voice shrill before turning to a whisper as she struggled to put sentences together. He had gotten the gist of what she had tried to say. Most of it revolved around Alexander Mahone.

…

Sitting in the bar later that afternoon, Clara had changed into something a bit smarter. She had a fitted grey dress on, but she had no option but to add tights with thanks to the scars on her back. She didn't complain about the heat, instead she suspected that she was sweating because of who she was about to meet. She had a cup of coffee in front of her as she emptied her fifth sachet of sugar into it.

Taking deep breaths, she waited for the woman to appear, hoping that she would come alone to begin with. It had been Agent Lang who had asked to meet her in the bar, but she had mentioned nothing about Agent Sullins. Clara folded one leg over the other, her hair tied back in a high ponytail.

"Miss Reynolds," her voice came from behind Clara.

Turning her head over her shoulder, Clara looked up to the woman who walked around her to take a seat across from her. Clara motioned to the coffee table.

"I ordered a pot of coffee," Clara said. "Alex told me that every FBI agent likes coffee."

"He would be correct," Agent Lang nodded, moving to pour herself a cup.

She was dressed in a smart grey pantsuit, her short cropped hair neatly brushed on top of her head. Her plump lips were pursed and her eyes were set on the woman sat across from her as she looked nervous, her brow beginning to sweat.

"I needed to talk to you before Agent Sullins got to you," Lang declared. "I know Alex isn't his biggest fan and the deal he is offering him is one of the best that he can hope for."

"So what is it?"

"Eight years in a St Louis jail," Lang said. "He needs to testify against The Company…whatever they are…and the government. If he does that then we wipe clean the homicide charges against him. If he doesn't accept the deal then he is looking at staying in Sona until his trial and beyond, considering the evidence is stacked against him."

Clara took in the information she was hearing from the man, her head nodding as it processed through her mind. She shrugged her shoulders as Lang watched her with intrigue, wondering if she was going to bring up Shales. Lang almost wanted her to, but a part of her wanted her to keep quiet. If she kept quiet then Lang would not have to do anything about it. Of course, she could always mention it.

"And that is it?" Clara wondered, choosing her words carefully.

"That is it," Lang confirmed.

"I thought that he was being investigated for something else too?" Clara said and Lang took a deep breath, standing up and taking her coffee cup with her.

Clara moved to follow her as Lang led her onto the balcony and away from prying eyes, the furthest point from the bar. She leant against the railing, sipping on her coffee as she spoke in a low voice.

"The evidence on Oscar Shales has proven to be inconclusive," Lang declared and Clara tried to remain calm, wondering if she should anything.

Should she tell the truth? Should she take the fall for it? She didn't know what to do. She had no idea what she needed to do. Instead she remained silent, her hand moving to take hold of the railing as she looked into the distance and Lang spoke in a hushed tone to her.

"I get it," she whispered. "I mean…I don't get it…but I have my suspicions."

"I don't know what to say," Clara mumbled and Lang shook her head, looking to the woman.

"I suggest you don't say anything," she told her. "Alex is in enough trouble as it is. Let's just focus on getting him to accept the deal when we visit him tomorrow? Okay?"

Nodding, Clara sipped on her coffee. "Why are you doing this?" Clara wondered from her. "I suspect you're not supposed to tell me about federal investigations."

Lang shrugged her shoulders at the question from the woman before turning on her heel and beginning to move towards the bar once again. "It's difficult not to have a soft spot for Alex."

Clara nodded, scoffing as she remained stood where she was. The woman wasn't wrong on that front at all.

…

The plan was slowly coming together, or so Alex thought. He had managed to calm himself, taking the drugs that Bagwell offered him. He knew it was the wrong thing to do, but he couldn't resist. He had been the first one out in the yard that morning, unable to sleep when he had seen the coffee cup fly in the breeze once the gates had been opened.

He picked it up in his hands before wandering over to Michael who was getting some water from the tap. He said how he was looking forward to finding out what Michael's plan was, but he had not been told what it was. Alex was being kept in the dark and he hated that. He hated not knowing, but he also knew that if Michael tried to betray him then he would make sure he had his revenge.

A new guy had been brought in while they had been talking and Alex had looked at him as he was beaten on the ground. Alex had shaken his head, holding the empty coffee cup in his grip as he walked past Michael and told him that he was ready to leave whenever he was.

Alex had gone to stand off at the side in the shade, keeping his head down as he observed things from afar. What he saw was the new guy looking at Michael and Whistler with intrigue and he wondered exactly what was going on. He said nothing for a few moments before wandering off to his cell and pacing, his mind once again going back to Clara.

"She'll never forgive," Alex complained when he was alone, his hands going to his hair and tugging on it as he thought of her and what he had said to her. Would she still be fighting for his release? Or had she caught the first plane back to the States?

He suspected that depended on what Sullins and Wheeler had uncovered. If they had found Shales then they might be able to piece things together. He didn't know exactly what to think anymore. He was quiet and contemplative, his mind then wandering off to Pam and he wondered what she was doing. She was probably picking Cameron up from school or something. Either way, she was better off without him sniffing around.

Alex didn't know what time Whistler came to his cell, whistling lowly and motioning to the corridor with his head.

"We need you," he said and Alex was all too eager to oblige, rushing into the corridor and wandering down the cells alongside Whistler. "We need you to act as a lookout."

"Why?" Alex wondered from him and Whistler kept his lips closed, unsure of whether or not Michael wanted the plan divulging. Alex seemed to accept the silence. "Got it."

Whistler let out a deep breath, feeling sorry for the guy. "Michael thinks there might be a blind spot between the two guards," he explained. "One is blinded by the sun and the other watches TV. We need to find out how long the gap is open for so we need to watch them, but we need you to keep an eye out and make sure no one sees us."

"And how do we get out?" Alex wondered as they came to the cell and Whistler walked in while Alex stayed in the doorway, his hand going to hold the metal next to the entrance.

"No idea," Whistler muttered.

Alex kept his gaze on the corridor while Whistler picked up the eye of a monoscope, peering out and looking at the guard. Alex stayed in his position for a while, making sure no one suspected anything as he watched with intrigue, occasionally letting out a sigh.

"So what's up with you, Mahone?" Whistler asked him, his voice low as he remained focused on the outside. "I mean, what are you going to do once you get out of here? I'd guess that you were a workaholic, right? Working for the FBI has to be intense?"

Alex gulped then and spoke, looking back to Whistler for a moment as he eyed the man with caution. "I'd imagine fishing has to be pretty intense. You smell of fish all the time…can't be easy."

"Prior to being locked up in here I had a lot of respect for the law," Whistler responded.

"You and me both," Alex mumbled.

"This guard has hardly moved in an hour," Whistler declared.

"You're probably not going to be able to get around him, anyway," Alex said, pacing in the entrance for a few seconds.

Another few minutes went by before Whistler spoke. "We probably might," he declared in a low voice, noticing how the sun began to shine in his face and he moved away.

He took that moment to throw the blue ball out of the cell and the guard didn't so much as make a move.

"I'm going to check on Michael," Alex declared, moving from the cell and wandering off down the corridor towards where Michael was in another cell.

He came to the outside area, bending slightly as the heat got to him. It was then when he spotted the new man. Walking by him, he hid in another direction before seeing that the man had followed him. Whoever he was, he was going to prove a problem for them and Alex didn't know why.

He waited until the man came back outside before making his move. He was scrawny with messy hair, his shirt having been taken from him along with his shoes. Alex moved to stand in front of him and he bumped into him. Alex heard him try to apologise for bumping into him, but he didn't. He told him to mind his own business, his voice harsh and demanding and Alex swore that if he didn't then they would have a problem further down the line.

He hoped that he had been threatening enough, but he didn't know if he had been. Alex wasn't entirely sure what he was like. He didn't know how long passed until the alarm sounded and he looked around, worry coursing through him that Michael had left without him. Alex had no option but to fall to the ground along with the other convicts, their hands behind their head as the guards entered, their guns aimed at anyone who dared to make a movement.

Alex saw Michael appear to the other side of him and relief course through him for a second before he saw the Colonel enter. His voice was loud and booming as it was declared that there was a rifle scope in the prison that had been aimed at the guard outside. Alex's brows furrowed as the guards rushed towards where they had seen the sight.

Alex knew exactly what had happened, but he kept silent. Letting the Colonel find the monoscope and then demand from Michael why he had it. Whistler stepped forwards then, claiming that he was the one with the device and that he had been watching birds. Alex saw him pull out a bird book and the Colonel seemed to be appeased before moving out.

Everyone began to stand again, going about their own business. Alex saw Michael begin to run off into the cells, but he followed him at a leisurely pace, knowing what had happened as soon as they came to the cell Michael had taken. It was locked. Moving to slam a fist against the bars, Michael shook his head.

"So what do we do now?" Alex wondered from him, pondering where Whistler had disappeared to since the guards had cleared out.

"We need to replace everything we lost," Michael declared, moving back to walk alongside Alex.

"Like what?" Alex asked of Michael, picking up another coffee cup that he found on their walk outside, unsure of why he did it and then thinking of the man he always saw drinking coffee when he entered the compound.

"We need a new exit point," Michael declared. "It's on the south side of the building."

Alex saw the new guy approaching them once more as they walked outside and he rolled his eyes, wondering if his warning hadn't gone down the way he had wanted it to. Keeping silent for a moment, Alex watched as the man came closer to him, clearly showing he wasn't being intimidated.

"Didn't I just warn you?" Alex wondered from him as he brushed by them.

It was only as Alex turned around did he see Whistler along with the new guy. He stood still for a moment, pointing to the fisherman and nodding his head profusely as he did so.

"I know you, don't I?" he said, but Whistler shrugged and shook his head.

"Don't think so."

"No, I do," the man continued and Alex arched an intrigued brow. "McFadden? Nice…in 1997?"

"No," Whistler said with a shake of his head.

"But you were with the ambassador," the man continued and Alex saw Whistler's demeanour change, his face turning sterner.

"You are mistaken," Whistler said, his voice signalling that was the end of the conversation before he moved to look at Alex and Michael, his shoulders shrugging as he pointed behind him to the retreating figure. "He must be losing it."

Alex said nothing, nor did Michael. Instead he was more focused on telling them what he had seen yesterday as he clutched onto the coffee cup in his fingertips.

"Come with me," Alex said, leading them inside once more and speaking to them in a hushed tone. "I know I don't observe things as well as you two, but I did see something."

Coming to the end of the corridor, they all looked outside as two guards made their way across no man's land. Michael commented how they were staring the day shift, but Alex urged them to keep on watching. It was then when the man dropped his cup from his grip and left it on the floor.

"If we get to the cup then we get to the man," Michael nodded.

"Everyone needs their fix," Alex said, "just probably with not as much sugar as…" he trailed off as he felt Michael and Whistler looking at him. Shaking his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose before wandering off, letting the two men watch him go.

…

"He refused the deal."

Clara had been holed up in a different hotel ever since she had agreed to confirm Alex's testimony. She had given her story to Agent Lang and Agent Sullins, informing them what Alex had told her. She told them everything. She told them what he had told her and what he had been forced to do. But then she told them what The Company had done to her.

She had stood up and tugged the zip down her dress, letting them look at the scars on her back. She heard Sullins swear under his breath while Lang looked away. They had asked why she didn't come forwards with this information, but she had said that they were threatening her ex if she told anyone.

But then Lang had gone off to speak to Alex, returning to the hotel room that Clara had been locked up in until she could testify. She was currently not facing jail time, but her testimony would back up Alex's and that was what they needed. He was the one who had committed the crime and he would be the one who had to serve the time. She remained silent as Lang shut the door and began to pace, her hands holding her head.

"Why would he refuse the deal?"

"I do not know," Clara said.

Lang had told her that it might be helpful if she were to join her and try to persuade him, but Clara had shaken her head, knowing that she had nothing to say to Alex right now. As he had been so keen to point out, he was a grown man who was able to make up his own mind.

"I am going back with Sullins this afternoon," Lang said. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us and try to talk to him?"

"Does he know that I have agreed to back up his story?"

"Yeah."

"Then I don't think I will be the one to persuade him," Clara said. "But…but just tell him…tell him…I'm not going to hold a grudge and that I want him to do the right thing."

Lang arched a brow at hearing that, folding her arms as Clara remained perched on the edge of the sofa. "When you said that you were seeing Alex to Wheeler…" she trailed off and Clara chuckled, standing up and folding her arms over her stomach as she paced the room.

"Not exactly the truth," she responded and Lang nodded before leaving the room.

Clara went back to sitting around, wondering if she had done the right thing. She also wondered if Alex would be reasoned with. If he thought that there was a chance of escaping with Michael then she doubted he would take the deal. She continued to alternate between pacing and sitting, her hands drumming against her thighs as she looked to the clock on the wall.

It was almost five p.m. They must have been to see him by now. They had to have been to see him. It was another half an hour before the door opened and Lang entered the room, a slim smile on her face as she nodded her head at Clara.

"He's in the room next door," Lang declared. "He's…he's asking to see you."

Letting out a long sigh, Clara moved with Lang out into the corridor and the room next door. Opening the door, Lang held it wide-open and allowed Clara to enter first. Looking over to him, Clara startled for a moment. He looked different to how he did in Sona. He had shaved and long gone were the dirty clothes.

He was dressed in a shirt and tie, tucked into his trousers and his hair was still damp on the top of his head. Clara saw Sullins stood on the other side of the room, his arms folded as he looked to Alex and then to Clara.

"What a lovely reunion," he said and Clara almost wanted to snap at him for the sarcastic comment, but she held her tongue as she looked away from Alex and he continued to stare at her. "Unfortunately the two of you cannot be left alone without either one of our supervision…just in case you admit anything or conspire together."

"I'll stay here," Lang said and Sullins nodded.

"I'm going to be honest, Alex," Sullins said. "I'm quite enjoying the role reversal here."

Lang looked off to the side then as Sullins continued to speak.

"I've managed to finalise a deal with the Panamanians," Sullins declared. "You're both going to stand there and state what happened in front of a special prosecutor. If he clears you then you're both coming with me back to the States. Alex, you're lucky I managed to get your sentence down to four years while Miss Reynolds over there…well…managed to get lucky."

"What does that mean?" Alex was the one to ask.

"Our investigation into Miss Reynolds has come to a closure," Sullins said. "Inconclusive evidence of her going anywhere near Oscar Shales…despite finding the gun she purchased and the footage of you two driving somewhere together."

"Sounds like useless evidence," Alex said and Sullins shook his head, moving to look at Clara as he went to the door, his face coming closer to hers as she did her best not to seem too anxious with his inquisitive nature.

"Lucky she has your back, huh, Alex?" Sullins spoke while Clara remained glancing away from him. "Someone has to."

Leaving the room, Clara let out a deep breath, wondering what was going to happen now. Instead she found herself beginning to shake as Alex moved towards her, but she held a hand up, stopping him from coming closer as she continued to look away from him.

His brow furrowed as he watched her. "I thought you said you didn't hold a grudge?" Alex said and Clara shook her head.

"That doesn't mean I'm not mad still," Clara informed him. "What you said to me…I mean…I know I was harsh back to you, but…"

"But what?" Alex asked and Clara was suddenly aware that Lang was still in the room with them. Looking over to her, he sent her a pleading look that asked her politely to leave, but she shook her head and offered him an apologetic glance.

"Clara, I know what I said was wrong," Alex said and Clara shrugged.

"But what if it was true?" she wondered, turning to look back to him as she stood by the window near the bed, looking outside of it. "What if you were right? Maybe that's why it hurt so much."

"What you told me was the truth and we both know that," Alex said in a low voice as Lang remained on the other side of the room, giving them both the privacy they needed. "I am addicted to drugs…and I can't stop…not now…but you…you're not lonely. You're just someone who has suffered."

"Yeah, well," Clara said in a whisper, "it doesn't matter now."

"It does matter," Alex told her, grabbing hold of her by the elbow as she tried to brush by him. Keeping her stood on the spot, his other hand went to wisps of her hair that had fallen from the ponytail as he pushed them behind her ear and he felt his voice begin to shake. "Because I'm not going to be able to make it through this…not like this…"

"What are you talking about?" Clara enquired from him.

"Look at me, Clara," he said in a low voice. "I'm a mess. I can hardly function or think straight…if this hearing doesn't happen tonight then I have no chance."

"What do you want me to do?" Clara wondered from him as his hand went to move to her cheek and he saw her close her eyes at the contact, his touch warm as he let his other move down her elbow to take her hand inside of his.

"I know how you feel, Clara," he said in a whisper as she inhaled a sharp breath at hearing him, her eyes remaining closed as she focused on the warmth of his fingertips. "I get it…you care for me…you care about me and I care about you…you know that."

"Alex-"

"-No, just listen to me," Alex interrupted her, sweat trickling down his forehead as he kept his hand tightly around hers and saw her mouth part slightly as his thumb roamed over her cheekbone. "You've been…you've been everything to me, Clara…all I can think about in that forsaken jail. All I can think of is you in there and I know that I am here because of you…"

"Because I want to help you," Clara said, managing to peer up to him as Alex nodded, his eyes flittering over her face.

"And I know that," he informed her. "And I am thankful for it…you know that, right?"

"I know," Clara said as she felt him move closer to her until his chest was brushing against hers and she felt him move to kiss her on the forehead, his lips light as Clara closed her eyes again, knowing just how wrong this was, especially with Lang just around the corner.

Alex couldn't begin to understand how she felt, mainly because she had no idea how she felt. All she knew was that, with his hand in hers, she felt better than she had done in a long time. She felt as though there was some kind of hope. She said nothing, instead relishing the feeling of his hand moving down her hair, running the length of her ponytail and stopping halfway down her back.

He kept on completing the motion as Clara remained still. She almost felt herself begin to feel content for a moment, but then he spoke. He spoke and she knew exactly what had happened. She couldn't believe how stupid she had been. She couldn't believe that she had fallen for it.

"I just need you to get me a final fix…to get me to the end of this…"

Clara moved then, pushing him from her as she shook her head and turned away from him. Lang watched on as Alex moved after her, grabbing hold of her by the arm and hauling her back. She stepped forwards as Alex continued to grapple with Clara.

"Let her go, Alex," Lang demanded. "I'm not stupid. My brother was a user and I can see the signs even if I didn't hear what you said to her."

Alex almost looked ashamed as he released Clara and she tugged her arm from him, shaking her head as she looked to him, the tears in her eyes as Lang took a step back and Clara felt her hands begin to shake.

"I know what I am, Alex," Clara declared in a hiss. "I know I am lonely and washed up…and I know that what I feel for you will never ever develop because I can't let it and I don't know if I want it to…and the fact that you will never want someone like me is fine. You have Pam…but doing that…playing with my feelings to get a fix? Making me think…" she trailed off choking as she held her hands in the air and shook her head before backing away to the door as Lang watched her unlock it.

"Clara," Alex tried to get to stay, but she was too busy moving to unlock the door.

She glanced to Lang and spoke. "I will testify when you need me but then I want to go home," she said.

"No problem," Lang nodded as Alex spoke, his voice low.

"I just need help, Clara," he said, still trying to convince her. "Or I won't be able to do it."

"Don't," Lang was the one to speak, holding a hand up to silence Alex before glancing to Clara. "I'll come and get you when it's time."

Clara nodded before leaving the room and moving back to the suite next door, opening the door and locking it behind her. She went to sit on the sofa, pulling her legs up to her chin as she bent her head and let the tears finally flow once again.

…

Alex had been given the news that the testimony had been delayed until the following morning. He was shaking all of the time when Sullins came in to tell him, almost looking at him with a sense of pity. Alex had paced up and down the room after Lang had left him locked inside. She had told him that she was going to check on Clara while Alex waited.

When she returned, his hair was in a worse state than before and his tie was undone along with his top button. He was red and sweaty as he begged Sullins to make sure the hearing happened today. He had been snappish and Sullins had told Alex that he should be a bit more grateful before demanding for Lang to cuff Alex for his behaviour.

She had done it and Alex had looked her in the eye, nerves getting the better of him.

"I can't wait," he said in a low voice. "I can't wait."

"I'm sorry," was all that Lang offered him. "I can't do anything for you, Alex."

"Clara," Alex said with a deep breath. "I need to see her."

Shaking her head, Lang backed away as Alex sat at the end of the bed. "Not an option, Alex. She…I think she made it perfectly clear how she felt about you."

"I know," Alex said, "and I need to apologise to her."

"You can apologise to her tomorrow-"

"-No," Alex said with a shake of his head. "I can't wait…I need her to know…I need to tell her."

"No," Lang said with a firm shake of her head. "I am not bringing her back in here for you to apologise and beg for her to get you drugs. Did you not see what you did to her, Alex?"

"I saw," Alex said with a small wince. "I saw…"

"Then leave her alone," Lang said before moving to the door. "I'll be back in the morning, Alex. I suggest you try to get some sleep."

...

A/N: Thanks to Guest for the latest review! If anyone is reading then do let me know what you think! Update again soon!


	19. Chapter 19

Sitting in the hotel bedroom, Clara continued to let her eyes stare at the wall that joined with Alex's room. She wondered exactly what was going through his mind as she sat up in bed. She had on a pair of long checked pyjamas, her body sweating slightly in the heat, despite the air conditioning. The cheap floral duvet she had pushed back was askew at the end of the bed. Her hands ran through her hair before she took a deep breath and stood up.

She wasn't a prisoner in this hotel. She could come and go as she pleased. She had even been lucky enough to be granted a balcony outside her room. She pushed the door open, the air conditioning shutting itself off as she stepped outside. Looking around she saw nothing but trees and long grass, the night air still humid. She let out a long sigh as her arms dangled over the edge of the railing and she bowed her head. Her hair fell in her face and she almost missed the knock on the door as she continued to lose herself in a daze.

Turning her head over her shoulder, she looked to the door as another knock sounded. Moving over to the wood, she pulled it open and saw Agent Lang stood in the corridor, her gaze sympathetic as she looked to Clara. The woman let the agent in, shutting her door before looking down to her attire and Lang arched a brow.

"Can't sleep?" she wondered, noticing the open balcony door.

"Not quite," Clara said.

"Neither can he next door," Lang nodded to the wall and Clara looked away as Lang continued to speak. "I know what an addict looks like. My brother had his problems when he was younger."

Clara managed a small smile in appreciation. "My sister did too."

"Seems we both know what they're like," Lang concluded. "And I know how addicts act when they want nothing but another fix. Alex…what he said to you…I don't think he was lying about what he said."

Clara scoffed, her head shaking back and forth as she moved around the room, her arms folded over her chest. "How can I trust anything he says?"

"Because you've seen how he acts," Lang told her. "He confessed everything to me, Clara. He told me how he has been protecting you ever since Shales. He told me…he admitted it all, but it is safe with me. I have no intention of running off to Sullins with the information."

That did cause Clara to let out a dry and hollow chuckle. "He would love it," she said with a nod of her head. "He would love knowing that Alex had all of those skeletons in his closet, but…thank you."

"He's not your problem," Lang said, "despite how you feel for him."

Clara felt as though she had been having this conversation too often recently. First she had it with herself and then she had debated it with Lincoln. It took her a moment before she rolled her eyes and shook her head back and forth, hands going to her hips as she glanced to the ceiling and Lang continued speaking to her.

"I know that addicts will say what they think people want to hear," Lang said, her arms folding over her stomach. "My brother used to do it all of the time…say how much he loved me…how he would stop if he had one last use…and I get that how Alex acted in there seems like he was trying to play you."

"Wasn't he?" Clara wondered back, brow arching as she challenged Lang, not entirely convinced. "I don't know. How can I trust him? How can I trust that he is sincere when I know that all he is thinking about is getting another fix? My sister used to do it to me all of the time and I was foolish enough to buy her the drugs sometimes…but then I wised up…"

"We all do," Lang agreed with her. "But just think about it for a second. Alex jumped on the first plane back to Chicago when he found out you had been injured. He's been keeping you safe."

"That doesn't mean that he cares about me like I care about him," Clara whispered.

"Perhaps not," Lang said and Clara looked away once more, chewing down on her lip as she spoke. "But he does care in his own way. If he was trying to use your feelings for him to get him drugs then we both know it is only because he is desperate…desperate for help…help that I don't know how to give him."

"And you think I do?" Clara wondered with a shake of her head. "I had to check my sister into rehab to get her the help she needed. Alex doesn't have that luxury."

"But he is in that room next door refusing to shut up about how sorry he is," Lang responded. "I think that you might help more than you know…you seem to be one of the only things keeping him going…you…Pam and his son…listen, I have no idea what is going on in his head about how he feels-"

"-You and me both," Clara interrupted.

"But," Lang drawled out, looking to Clara with some kind of pleading stare, "if he is to get through tomorrow then I think he needs to talk to you."

Letting out a deep sigh, Clara glanced away from the intense stare that Lang was directing her before nodding her head. She reached for the key to her room and Lang let out a sigh of relief before leading her to the room next door. Clara locked the door before following Lang, realising she had no shoes on as she entered Alex's room.

He was perched on the edge of the bed, sat at the side of it and letting his eyes rest on the window. Clara took a moment to shake her head at the sight of him, a feeling of illness coming over her. The sweat dripping down his forehead was difficult to ignore and she could see that he had tugged his tie halfway down his shirt, the top three buttons undone as he held his head in his hand.

He stood up as soon as he saw Clara enter the room and she remained stood there, her face stoic as she tried not to show him how much the sight of him upset her. Instead she kept her hands by her side. Lang looked to Alex and nodded at him. She had done what he had asked of her. She had no intention of letting him out of her sight, but she knew that he needed privacy.

"I'm standing right by the door and checking on you every ten minutes," Lang informed him. "I'm serious, Alex. I brought Clara to see you…don't mess anything up."

"I won't let him," Clara was the one to speak, shooting Lang an understanding stare.

The woman nodded and moved to the doorway, leaving the room. Clara could see that the bed was still made and the food that had been ordered for Alex was untouched. She said nothing for a moment, moving to pick up a fry and pop it in her mouth. It was cold, but she didn't mind too much as Alex kept on watching her.

Sitting down on the end of the bed, Clara felt him move his hand to her arm and she almost wanted to shrug him off of her, but she let him keep his hand there instead. He leant closer to her, looking her in the eye as his other hand went to her cheek.

"I never meant it," Alex whispered to her. "I never meant to hurt you."

"You never do," Clara responded, "but you keep saying these things and I know it isn't you. It's the drugs talking."

"Then you know I never meant it," Alex said and Clara shrugged her shoulders.

"That makes it even worse," Clara said, "because I know that everything you say is a lie. Everything you tell me…how you care…how you want to keep me safe…all of that is a lie."

"No," Alex firmly responded with a shake of his head, unable to let her believe that as he moved with haste to take hold of her hand. "I do mean that, Clara. I know that I mean it."

"Do you?" Clara wondered of him as she saw his eyes widen. "Because I think as soon as you are sober…as soon as you are out of here…back in the States…then you'll forget about those feelings. It's like you said, Alex. I'm lonely. I'd guess that is why I care for you so much, but I'm not the only lonely one. You have been for weeks and maybe that's why you care about me."

Alex said nothing in response as he saw her cheeks tint red and she looked over to him, taking in his appearance before sighing and looking him in the eye, knowing exactly what she wanted to say to him as she took hold of his cheeks in her fingertips.

"What I feel is between me, myself and I," Clara said, searching his gaze. "I don't trust too easily and I don't let myself care about people either. But you…I will admit that I care, Alex…how deeply…I don't know and I don't want you to know, even if you might have your suspicions…so listen to me, Alex."

He watched her intently then as she kept her gaze stern and her face showing nothing but anguish.

"If you ever try to use my feelings for you to manipulate me and get you drugs…to play me…if you ever do that to me again then I will not forgive you again," Clara clarified and Alex nodded at her.

"I n…never…meant to do that," he stammered out to her and she kept silent as Alex continued to speak. "I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well," Clara said, wondering why she couldn't stay angry at him for too long as she dared to move into his bathroom, running the cold water in the sink. "I think we should just focus on making sure you can testify tomorrow?"

Alex stood up then, beginning to pace by the side of the bed once more as Clara let the water continue to run before moving out into the bedroom, pulling open the windows in his room.

"Do you think I'll be able to do it?" Alex wondered, the sleeves to his shirt uncuffed as he let his fingers play with the edges of them. Clara shrugged, opening the curtain to let the breeze in.

"I think you don't have much of a choice," she informed him, moving to unknot his tie and toss it onto the bed before wandering into the bathroom. "You just need to keep your mind on track, Alex. If you can do that then you can get through it."

"Easier said than done," he muttered.

"Most things are," Clara said, pushing the plug into the sink and letting the basin fill up with cold water. She turned the tap off when it was filled halfway. "Alex, come here."

He did as he was told, moving into the bathroom as Clara closed the toilet seat and motioned for him to sit down. He sat on it, his hands clasped together as he leant forwards and she chewed down on her lip before grabbing a cloth from the towel rail.

Dipping it into the water, she soaked it and wrung it out, leaving it damp before moving to kneel before Alex. She took hold of his wrist, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows before pressing the cloth to his wrist. He seemed to let out a moan at the relief and Clara kept the cold cloth pressed to his skin.

"You have pressure points that are supposed to cool the body," she informed him, moving to press the material to the other wrist. "I mean, it should help you to cool down quicker and hopefully stop you sweating as much as you are doing."

"Thank you," Alex said, knowing what he really wanted was drugs. He had told Lang as much when she had been in the room with him and he had tried to convince her to find him some. He had warned her that he might not be able to testify in the state he was in and that drugs would help calm him.

He would come clean once he was done testifying. He knew he had to. But until then he needed something to keep him going. He didn't mention anything to Clara, knowing full well that she would have no intention of buying him any drugs.

"Don't mention it," Clara muttered, standing up and wetting the cloth once again before wringing it out and then letting it rest on the back of his neck, no doubt wetting his collar.

He didn't complain, instead he accepted the relief the coolness brought him as he spoke in a low voice to the woman stood to the side of him and holding the cloth.

"How long does it take…you know…to get over it?" he wondered from her.

She mused for a moment. "Depends," she said, "for some people it can take longer than others. For Theresa it took her a good few months…the first few days were the hardest…we…Tom and I…had checked her into some rehabilitation centre and she was always calling me, begging for me to come and get her."

"And did you?" Alex asked as Clara found her hand moving to his hair, her fingers running through it in a slow motion as she tried to soothe him.

"No," she responded. "We couldn't go and get her, Alex. She needed to do it. If I went and took her away then she would have snuck out of my sight and gone for more."

"When did she stop calling?" Alex wondered, voice hoarse.

"She didn't," Clara said, "but slowly the topic of conversations changed. She would go from begging me to come for her…to complaining about how difficult it was…and then she would say how she knew she had a problem and how sorry she had been for treating me like she had done. I think that was the hardest part…the acceptance of knowing you have a problem."

"I know it," Alex responded as Clara looked down to the top of his head. "I just can't do anything about it."

"You can and you will," Clara said to him. "You have no choice in the end, Alex. You either change or let it destroy you. I don't think you want that."

She said nothing further as she heard the door open and Lang entered the suite, rushing to the bathroom and looking to the two of them.

"Sullins is here," she informed them.

And a minute later the door opened again and Sullins walked in, his eyes glimmering with some kind of wonder as he saw Alex sat on the toilet seat with Clara stood to the side of him. Gone was the sarcastic tone in his voice as he looked to Alex and then back to Clara.

"What is going on here?" he asked. "What is wrong with you, Alex?"

"I'm nervous," Alex answered.

"And he might have had some dodgy food," Clara continued covering for him as Sullins glanced over to her and she moved the cloth to the cold water again, dunking it.

"I mean," Alex said, voice stammering slightly, "my life is on the line here."

"What?" Sullins asked back from him. "Alex, I have seen you go in front of the world's press hundreds of times and you've never been nervous. You don't do nervous."

"Well, the situation is a little bit different," Clara was the one to declare, eyeing Sullins with suspicion. "He'll be fine by the morning. I'll just-"

"-What?" Sullins interrupted, "continue to play nurse for your little boyfriend?"

"Do you ever get tired of acting like an arse?" Clara finally snapped at him, tired of his tone as she let her eyes move to glower at him. "Listen, he's sick. Just accept it and leave him alone. He's agreed to testify and he will do, but you don't need to laud it over him all of the time."

Sullins seemed to grow angry at hearing that as Clara arched her brow, waiting for the repercussions of her comments. But nothing came. Instead Sullins pointed his finger at her from where he stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

"You're on dangerous ground, Miss Reynolds," he told her.

"I doubt it," she responded and Sullins turned to leave the room as Lang took a deep breath and Alex let out a throaty chuckle once the door had closed.

"Best thing I've seen in a long time," he declared.

"Okay," Clara said, moving to grip his arms. "Let's try and get you some sleep."

Moving with Alex back into the bedroom, Clara plumped up the pillows before Alex collapsed onto the bed. She sat on the edge of the bed, picking up a glass of water that was on the bedside table and taking a sip of it before putting it back. She startled for a moment when she felt Alex's hand on the small of her back and she turned her head over her shoulder to look to him.

"What is it?" Clara wondered from him.

"You should get some sleep," Alex whispered, looking slightly less sweaty as Clara chuckled and Lang remained in the room, perched on the sofa.

"I'm fine here," she told him. "Just try to rest and I'll be here."

Moving from the side of the bed, she went to sit on the other end of the sofa to Lang. She pulled her legs up to her chest and shut her eyes, wondering just how horrible the following day was going to be.

…

Clara had taken a seat on the chair next to Alex's as they sat in the courthouse the following morning, a panel sat before them declaring how they were at an international hearing that the United States had requested. Clara could see how Alex was still shaking, his eyes flitting around the room as he sat in the smart suit that Sullins had leant him.

He was sipping nervously on his water as Clara sat on his other side, longing to do something to make him stop his current agitated state. Instead she could only keep her gaze on him as it was declared how both of them would testify. It was then when Clara saw him move his hand to his wrist and she saw him scratch at it. Slowly, it began to bleed and her eyes widened as Sullins caught the motion.

Moving with haste, Clara tried to act subtly as she took his wrist away from the hand scratching at it, her fingers moving around his to stop him from causing anymore damage. Sullins muttered something under his breath as Clara's grip on Alex remained tight and her gaze went to the men before her as they spoke.

"Mr. Mahone," one declared, "when were you first contacted by an agent…or someone else…who worked for The Company?"

Alex nodded his head as Clara looked to him. "They told me that I had to kill the Fox River Eight…that if I didn't then they would kill my wife and kid. They wanted them all dead because they had been with Scofield when he made the escape…so The Company didn't know what they knew."

"Calm down," Clara urged in a small voice as the man leading the panel looked over to her.

"And Miss Reynolds, when did they first contact you?" he asked of her.

Clara knew that she had to lie. She had to lie to conceal the secret of Shales and maintain the lie she had spun Wheeler. She knew that was necessary. As she spoke, she kept her voice even as her hand remained on Alex's wrist.

"Alex told me what he had to do one evening. I cannot remember the exact date…only that it was the date when he was giving a press conference about the Fox River Eight," Clara declared. "We had been…well…we stayed in contact ever since we met a year ago. It was all private and quiet, but when he told me what he had to do then The Company became worried. They thought I might be a threat to him…that I might hinder him from doing what he had to do. One night, an Agent Kellerman found us at Alex's office and he told me that The Company had eyes on my ex-fiance…Tom…that they would hurt him if I went to the police."

Looking through the notes, the man nodded at hearing that. "Agent Kellerman did attest to that."

Clara sighed in relief, wondering if Kellerman had said anything about Shales, but apparently he had kept that man out of it. Saying nothing as the man looked back to Alex, Clara could see him beginning to get even more nervous as she moved her hand from his and poured him another drink, sliding it over to him.

"Is this correct, Mr. Mahone?" the man wondered.

"Yeah," Alex nonchalantly declared to him. "It's correct…all of it…it's like this mess of lies…and a web…they find the people you care about and they make sure you know about it…"

"Mr. Mahone, I need you to keep your answers to the question."

"But, don't you see?" Alex responded. "It's all a web…all of it…and Michael Scofield knows it…so does Lincoln Burrows." His hands fumbled with the water as Clara bowed her head, knowing that he was ruining this for himself.

"Mr. Mahone," the man behind the bench sighed, "you still haven't told us when The Company first made contact with you."

"I cannot remember," Alex answered honestly, looking to the man with wide eyes as Clara glanced over to him. "I mean…they could be in contact with you…or you with them…and you would never know."

He went silent for a minute as the men in front of him seemed to take a deep breath and look exhausted.

"It all sounds crazy," Alex said. "I know that. I know that it is crazy and I know that you might not understand it…but it is true. The government…the very same thing I worked for all of my life…it blackmailed me…made me do things I didn't want to do…hurt people I care about…just to keep my family safe."

Everyone looked to Alex as he began to warm up and Clara sighed, shaking her head back and forth.

"I know he sounds crazy," Clara said, hoping that her voice was reasonable, "but he is telling the truth. I met with Agent Kellerman, as we have assessed, and he told me about how Alex had a job to do. The evidence has to be there…Kellerman's testimony…I…I told Agent Sullins and Lang what they did to me. I have the evidence of it on my back."

"And we have heard," the man declared, "but I am afraid Mr. Mahone really needs to testify himself, Miss Reynolds. You cannot do it on his behalf, despite what you claim to know."

It was then when Clara knew that any chance they had of getting out of this mess was well and truly gone. Alex was given no option but to leave the room, Lang escorting him out as Clara followed. Both of them took a seat in the corridor on the wooden bench as Lang went back in, cuffing Alex first while Clara buried her face in her hands.

"I'm sorry," Alex told her.

"You don't need to apologise to me," Clara responded with a firm shake of her head, her hands going to push her hair behind her ears before pulling at the grey fitted dress she wore. "This was your chance to leave Sona."

"But you organised it," Alex said. "You made them come and I ruined it."

"I know," Clara agreed with him.

"They're going to send me back," Alex said, voice shaking as his leg continued to jump up and down while his foot tapped the floor. "I'm going to go back."

"What happens then?" Clara was the one to wonder as Alex shrugged at her.

"No idea," he mumbled. "Michael…he told Lechero about me…about how I was the one to kill this guy who had been spying on Whistler. He was going to ruin our plan. He knew too much…claimed that he knew Whistler from the Embassy. Scofield went and told Lechero that I killed him and you're not allowed to do that. You can't kill unless you have his permission."

Clara tried to absorb all of that information, most of it making no sense to her as an armed guard came to stand outside and make sure they didn't escape. Clara looked down to the intricate carpet beneath their feet before shaking her head.

"I told them everything," Clara said. "I wrote down what had happened."

"You only told them what I told you," Alex said, still tapping his foot. "For all you know I could have been working with The Company…for all they know I could have been…besides…they think we've been seeing each other. Your testimony is biased based on that fact."

"It's so unfair," Clara mumbled, unable to stop herself and aware of how much of a whinging child she sounded like. "I…I just know that it is unfair."

She said nothing further as felt Alex's cuffed hands move to take one of hers. She looked down at the contact before he spoke in a soft and urging tone.

"Go home," he told her. "You're free from all this now. Just go home."

She bit down on her tongue, not wanting to tell him how she had no desire to go home. Instead she remained silent as she let him keep hold of her hand. It took another ten minutes before the doors opened and the panel came out. Alex didn't bother to look at them as Clara did. She saw Lang move over to her, their gaze showing understanding.

"I'm sorry," Lang said as she came to stand before both of them. "Alex…I'm going to have to take you back to Sona."

"But I told the truth," Clara said, refusing to drop the subject as Lang spoke.

"They couldn't fully believe you thanks to your past with Alex," Lang said. "Besides, a lot of what you told us was based on what Alex had told you. For all they know Alex could be lying to you."

Saying nothing further, Clara shook her head as Alex began to stand and she did the same, his hand still in hers as he moved swiftly, bending down to peck his lips against her cheek as he whispered to her. "Thank you," he spoke in a hushed voice before Lang nodded at him to walk forwards and his hands left Clara's as he began to make the journey back to Sona.

…

Lincoln was exhausted after everything that had happened. The Company had come after them and Sofia had told him how Whistler was not the man she thought he was. Lincoln and Sucre had gone into the woods to purchase a cabin, setting the escape plan into motion. Lincoln had gone back to the hotel that evening, drained beyond belief. As he settled in for the evening, he expected Sucre to return soon. The knock on the door alerted him to someone there. He thought that it had to be Sucre who had forgotten his key.

But when he came to the door, he hardly expected to see the sight he saw. She was panting for breath, hands wrapped around the doorframe. The grey dress she wore was creased and her hair a mess on top of her head as her gaze met Lincoln's and he arched a brow with intrigue.

"I want to help," she said, voice hoarse as he noticed her wet eyes.

He wondered what the hell had happened to her as he spotted a rip in the bottom of her dress and a cut on her forearm.

"I want to help you go against The Company."

...

A/N: Thanks to Evie and Miss Hodgehog for reviewing! Do let me know what you think if you're reading!


	20. Chapter 20

Lincoln ushered Clara in, checking the corridor before he shut the door and locked it. He watched her step in and saw her shaking, wondering what the hell had happened. Moving to the mini bar, he pulled it open and grabbed hold of a small bottle of vodka. Passing it to her, she took it from his fingertips and drained the contents as he folded his arm over his chest.

"What happened?" he asked of her and she tossed the bottle into the wastebasket before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I was on my way back to the hotel to pick up the rest of my things," Clara began to explain to him, "I'd been moved to another hotel until I testified with Alex."

"How did that go?" Lincoln couldn't resist asking.

"Shit," she answered bluntly. "They were taking him back to Sona when I last checked. No idea how long he will last in there…he's in a state…anyway…I got side tracked."

"You did," Lincoln nodded.

"So I was on my way back to the hotel and I got out of the cab. There was this guy there…tall…dark hair…dressed in a fine looking suit. I imagine you can guess where this is going?" Clara wondered as she went to Lincoln's mini fridge and helped herself to another bottle of vodka, opening the top as Lincoln watched her and he perched on the sofa.

"I can," Lincoln confirmed. "Something to do with The Company."

Clara held her hands over her head. "We have a winner," she said, voice laden with sarcasm as she lowered her arms and shook her head slowly. "So, anyway, he said that he wanted me to go with him. As if that was going to happen. I asked him what he wanted and he said that someone wanted to know why I had been hanging around with Lincoln Burrows and why I was trying to save Alexander Mahone."

"They didn't try to shoot you?" Lincoln wondered from her. "Usually my dealings with The Company end in them trying to kill me."

"That's the weird part," Clara said, finishing the vodka and then tossing the bottle in the bin. "He didn't even pull out his gun or threaten to kill me. If anything, he was against hurting me. Whoever I know inside of The Company…whoever might want to protect me…I need to find out who it is."

Lincoln motioned to her arm where the scratch sat. "Doesn't explain the cut or the ripped dress."

"Oh," Clara said, glancing down to her arm and then down to her skirt. "I kind of started kicking at him and screaming to attract attention. He fought back…not much."

"Clever," Lincoln told her. "But, again, that doesn't explain why you want to join us. I'm here to get my brother out of jail and then I'm done with The Company once I have my son back."

"Sensible," Clara responded to him. "But I want to help you until then. Maybe I can find something further out? I don't know. I just know that everything…everything in my life has gone to shit in the past year since Shales and I want to rebuild it."

"You're not going to do that by digging into The Company," Lincoln informed her and she shrugged.

"Maybe not," she agreed with him on that matter, "but I'm tired of not knowing things."

"You know that this is pretty dangerous? I mean, I'm not sure what you want me to help you with. All I'm doing is helping Michael break out of that craphole."

"And he is going to take Alex with him, right?" Clara wondered. "Because that is what Alex is probably thinking. We both know differently. I know how your brother thinks and how you think. Alex shot your father. Why would you help to break him out?"

Lincoln chewed down on the inside of his cheek as he listened to her and she folded her arms over her chest, looking to Lincoln expectantly with an arched brow. She was doing her best not to seem too pushy, but she knew that Alex's only chance of getting out of Sona was breaking out. There would be no chance the FBI would help him after the stunt he just pulled.

"No doubt Michael will try to set him up," Lincoln agreed.

"Then you need to tell him not to."

Lincoln chuckled, flopping back on the sofa and scratching the back of his head. "I'm not exactly Michael's favourite person right now. He found out that Sara had died and I didn't tell him. He didn't take the news very well."

Nodding, Clara seemed to understand. "I can imagine not," she whispered and Lincoln watched her continue to speak. "But he needs to break Alex out too. Don't string him along and then drop him."

"If he gets out then I intend to put a bullet through his head anyway," Lincoln shrugged, eyes narrowing as he watched Clara and she bit down on her lip at hearing him speak in such a manner. "Besides, why would we keep him around?"

"Because there might come a time when you need me as a bargaining chip," Clara declared, hands going to her hips as Lincoln eyed her with suspicion. "We both know that there is someone inside of The Company who wants to keep me around and alive. We don't know why or who it is, but there is someone. Keep me close and use my life for your son's if it comes to it, but Alex is part of the plan. You're not to play him."

"You still bargain for him," Lincoln scoffed, head shaking back and forth.

"Do we have a deal?" Clara wondered, not in the mood for getting into her motives and why she was doing what she was doing. Instead she watched Lincoln with intrigue and he managed a shrug of his shoulders.

"Come with me to Sona tomorrow and we will talk to Michael."

…

Standing in the glaring son, Clara wondered what the hell was going on. They had been told that they could not visit Michael in the visitation area. Apparently he was in solitary confinement. Clara had no idea what he had done, but she let Lincoln argue with the man behind the front desk while she signed in to visit Alex. She needed to make sure he was alive and well.

She walked to the usual spot, waiting to see him come out. He moved, his body seeming to curl in on itself as his hands remained laced together in front of his stomach. He had his gaze on the ground before he came to stand opposite her. He managed to look up and she saw how rough he looked, but the words he spoke were enough to give her some hope.

"I haven't taken anything," he told her and she gave him an encouraging nod and a small smile.

"Good," she said in a small voice, moving closer to him as she wrapped her hands around the barbed wire. "I'm guessing it hurts?"

Alex let out a small chuckle, nodding profusely. "Just a bit," he told her. "But I'm keeping busy. Scofield has let me back in on the escape effort according to Whistler. We're tunnelling out of here."

"And then what?" Clara wondered.

"No idea," Alex admitted to her, "but they dragged Scofield out this morning and chucked him in solitary. I was coming back in when I saw him in this box outside…covered in a plastic sheet of some kind to trap the heat. While I was gone there was an escape attempt for Whistler involving a helicopter and Michael was caught trying to stop him."

"That makes sense why we can't talk to him then."

"We?" Alex arched a brow and Clara looked behind her, wondering if she could see Lincoln in the distance, but there was no sign of him.

"I'm working with Lincoln Burrows to make sure you get out of here. Someone from The Company saw me on the way back to the hotel last night and demanded to know what I had been doing with Burrows. I put up a fight, but he didn't do much back…ripped my dress…scratched me. For some reason they still don't want me dead."

"So Lincoln is letting you work with him?" Alex continued to question her, giving his mind something to focus on instead of the pain he was feeling.

"There might be a day when he needs me as a bargaining chip to get his son back," Clara tried to sound nonchalant as she shrugged her shoulders and Alex almost looked horrified at her attitude. "So I'm going to be that chip, providing that Michael breaks you out and doesn't throw you under the bus."

Alex chuckled. "Funny," he mumbled.

"What is?"

"Michael said he would be prepared to use you as leverage if he had to," Alex spoke. "Well, they do say that great minds think alike. But…you're right. The thought of Scofield double crossing me did enter my mind."

"So you're on high alert?" Clara enquired and Alex nodded.

"I'm always on high alert," he informed her. "You have to be in this place…it doesn't help that Bagwell keeps coming to offer me drugs…wanting to fight this man for some reason I don't know."

"I assume you turned it down?"

Wiping his forehead free from sweat, Alex nodded. "Yeah," he told her. "I'm just focused on getting out of here now…nothing else…no matter how much I crave it."

Clara shook her head at hearing him speak in such a manner. She longed to be able to reach out and touch his arm, offer him some encouragement, but she couldn't. Instead she could only wonder what words of encouragement she could offer him. She had nothing. She remained quiet instead, letting Alex be the one to speak.

"Anyway, you should be careful," Alex said. "If The Company think you're working with Burrows then they'll send someone after you again."

"I know," Clara nodded. "Good job Burrows has offered to teach me some basic self-defence tonight. Who says it hurts to know a crook, huh?"

She tried to be humorous, but all Alex could picture was her spending time with Lincoln. For some reason, he felt his stomach clench before he shook the image away. He didn't need to think about that or feel that way. He had Pam. He had to break out and get himself back home for Pam's sake. His son needed him too. Cameron hadn't seen his father in too long.

"Just look after yourself, alright?" Alex urged from her. "And don't do anything stupid."

"You're one to talk," she scoffed, looking up to the jail.

"And look where I am," Alex said to her. "I mean it, Clara," he moved his hand to take hold of hers through the wire, his fingers warm against hers as he held them in his grip. "You need to be careful."

"I will be," Clara promised him, gripping onto him tightly for a moment. "Listen, I should go. Lincoln has this massive list of things to do today and he's my lift back to the hotel. I'll come back sometime soon to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah," Alex nodded, releasing her hand as she moved hers to dangle back down by her side as she offered him a slim smile and began to back away. "Take care, Clara."

"You too," she said, "and keep thinking about why you're doing this…for Pam and your son…"

As she turned on her heel to leave, Alex stared after her. "They're not the only ones getting me through this."

…

Clara had been locked in Lincoln's hotel suite that evening, waiting for him to return. When he did, he was furious and Clara could only look up from the magazine she had been reading to glance across to him.

"What happened?" she wondered.

He scoffed. "What hasn't happened since I dropped you off this morning?" Lincoln wondered from her. "It was going well. I had this fake argument with Sucre this morning so that I could get him to work as a spy on Susan. That went great, but then I went to meet with her this afternoon and she was arrested. I had no idea what happened…apparently Michael had told this General who put him in solitary about her and why he had to escape because of her and to save my son."

"So what happened?" Clara worried, standing up and tossing the magazine down.

"They took LJ to a different location so that the General couldn't find him," Lincoln said. "And I also learned that Susan isn't this chick's real name…it's Gretchen."

"Talk about a busy day," Clara mumbled, arms going over her chest as she spoke and Lincoln scoffed, nodding his head as he listened to her and she moved around the room. "So this General believes Michael about The Company?"

"No idea," Lincolns shrugged. "He's dead now. Gretchen saw to that and Michael's back in gen pop along with Whistler."

"Christ," Clara muttered. "This Gretchen sounds…"

"Crazy?" Lincolns suggested when Clara struggled to find the right words and he nodded at her. "She is."

"So what do we do?" Clara wondered from Lincoln.

"Try and stay one step ahead of Gretchen," Lincoln responded. "I have no idea if we can do it, but we have to try and do something. But you're not getting messed up in that business. It's bad enough I have Sofia tagging along and questioning Whistler."

"She's his girlfriend, right?"

"Yeah," Lincoln mumbled, not wanting to discuss it. "Anyway, I promised to teach you how to fight, didn't I?"

"That you did," Clara nodded. "So where do we start?"

…

Alex could only hope that he had gotten over the worst of the addiction. He had been curled up on his bunk, holding onto the picture of his son that had been sent through the post. He had no idea who had sent it, but he was grateful. Clutching it to his chest, he closed his eyes and thought of what Clara had said. He had to do this for Pam and for Cameron. But he also had to do this for her; for Clara.

She had been the one to try and bail him out of this mess. He owed it to her to find a way to repay her and while him coming off of drugs had no direct impact on her life, he hoped to show her that he could do it. Somehow that might repay all the favours she had done for him.

"Mahone."

Looking up from where he had been laid, he saw Michael stood in the doorway. Gulping, he nodded his head at the sight of the man in front of him. Michael had been admitted back into Sona and had suggested they start work digging the tunnel straight away.

Whistler was stood behind Michael as Alex stood up and they moved down the corridors and back towards the tunnel they were digging. Rolling his sleeves up, Alex let them rest on his elbows as Bagwell found them moving towards Lechero's quarters.

"What is he doing here?" Michael demanded to know.

"He had something I needed while you were out there so he's coming with us," Whistler declared.

Stepping down into the bunker, Lechero stood in the corner, looking at them as Bagwell stood to their other side. Alex said nothing, feeling his shirt begin to grow with sweat. Instead he ignored Bagwell as he rushed around them and demanded that he be taken along with them on the escape plan. Alex didn't care who they were dragging out, so long as they were getting out.

Michael demanded for Lechero to go and find saws that they would need along with Bagwell, leaving the three of them locked in the tunnel underneath Lechero's quarters. Michael began looking at the hole they were making, digging upwards as he watched the hole with intrigue.

"We need to stabilise it," Michael said to them. "So we need something like four feet wood."

"Got it," Alex muttered before they heard a noise from behind the door.

Keeping quiet, the three of them turned to look to the door, biting down on their lips and keeping silent as they waited for the noise to disappear. It soon did and they went back to work, looking for what Michael had told them to look for. Alex remained silent, crouching down to find what he needed.

It was then when they heard a loud roar from outside and they looked around, wondering what was happening. Alex saw Whistler find a plank of wood and Alex nodded, motioning to the hole where it needed to go. Whistler climbed up and stabilised the section before climbing back down.

They kept on working in silence and Alex patted the pocket of his shirt, feeling the photo of his son there, still secure and with him. He went back to working, closing his eyes for a moment as he found another piece of wood. He let his hand move over his forehead to wipe the sweat from it.

"Is something going on out there?" Alex wondered as another roar sounded from outside.

"Whatever it is does not concern us," Whistler declared. "We'll be gone in two days."

"Once we're outside we're finished," Michael said. "As soon as I have swapped you for my nephew then this is over."

"Fine with me," Whistler agreed with a nod of his head while Alex wondered what he would do on the outside.

Would he go back to the States and find his wife and son? He could go back to them and try to make things work. He would be sober by then and back to his usual self.

"Alex, we need help here," Michael suddenly said, pulling him from his thoughts as Whistler held the wood in the hole to support the weight above them.

Jumping onto the boxes, Alex lifted his hands above his head to support the wood as he groaned in pain and Michael screwed something into it to stabilise it. Alex watched on as Michael shot him a sharp nod.

"Let go," he demanded from Alex and he did as he was told with hesitation, letting go of the wood before climbing down from the wood and looking up, shocked that it was holding all of that weight.

"How many more of those do we need?" Alex wondered from Michael.

"Twenty more," Michael said, hands on his hips as he jumped down and stood on the ground.

"And then what?" Whistler wondered.

"A helicopter would be nice," Michael replied, his voice snide as Whistler rolled his eyes and Alex stayed out of their conversation, searching for more wood.

"I was supposed to kill you, but I didn't," Whistler responded.

"I'm so grateful," Michael responded, sarcasm in his voice as he watched Whistler. "But what happens once we're out of the hole is my business. You'll know when it happens. Just be grateful you're getting out."

"We can all agree on that," Alex responded. "But where the hell is Lechero?"

"He's not our concern right now," Michael said with a shake of his head. "We need to do this and get it done quickly. So long as he brings the tools in another half an hour then we'll be fine."

"Should I go and look for him?" Alex wondered and Whistler shrugged.

"Might not be a bad idea," Whistler agreed.

Before he could move, there was another roar from outside and Alex shook his head. On second thought, he might just wait until they returned. He went back to snapping wood. But it was then when he shook his head and looked to the uneven plank as Michael looked.

"The saw…" Alex said, trailing off as he spoke. "We need it, but whatever is going on out there I don't want to know about."

"Give him a bit more time," Michael nodded.

It was then when Whistler spoke, clearly needing to get something off of his chest as he flapped his arms by his side.

"I am a fisherman," he informed them, despite the fact no one believed that story anymore. "But I'm just connected. You see, I used to run charters and one day that woman…Gretchen…she came to me and asked if I wanted to be exclusive to her company. I mean, she was offering good money, I just didn't know how deep this thing got."

"Right," Michael said, his eyes narrowed before he looked to Alex. "I need a wedge."

"Here," Alex responded, handing Michael a piece of thick wood and he took it to observe it as Whistler continued with his story.

"Look," he said, pulling out the bird book he had been sent. He flicked it open as Alex went back to scouring amongst the piles of wood, his gaze set on that instead of what the man opposite was showing them. "These are all just coordinates…about where I have been…that's it."

"Just stop," Alex demanded, in no mood to hear the man. "It's embarrassing having to listen to you go on about this. As far as I'm concerned, you work for The Company. Michael?"

"Yeah," Michael agreed.

"But they're using me, just like they used you," Whistler complained.

"Great," Alex said, voice sarcastic as he spoke. "I'm glad we got that sorted out, now let's just get back to work so we can think about getting out of here."

Alex picked up another piece of wood and they went about their own business for a while, doing what they could without the tools they had. It was only after a few moments when Michael spoke to Whistler, his tone still holding a sense of accusation.

"So the book is just coordinates?" Michael asked and Whistler pulled it open.

"Take a look," Whistler declared.

The two men began talking as Michael questioned him on the book. Alex said nothing for a moment as Michael read out random words like Gate and Stampede. Shaking his head, Alex moved back over to them, looking between them with intrigue.

"Why does this matter?" Alex wondered.

"It matters because I am being accused of being someone I am not and I don't want Michael leaving me out when the time comes to escape."

"He won't," Alex said confidently. "Besides, if he was going to leave someone behind then he would leave me, but if he even thinks of leaving anyone then we alert the authorities and he's never going to get out of Panama."

Michael eyed Alex with suspicion as the elder man shot him a questioning gaze.

"Right?" he asked.

"Right," Michael reluctantly agreed. "Besides, I hear that you have Clara with my brother making sure I don't abandon you."

"Yeah," Alex mumbled. "What of it?"

"Nothing," Michael said, "just that Lincoln said she seemed pretty keen to get to the bottom of who she knows in The Company. Just wondering if you think that's wise."

Alex chuckled then, looking down before grabbing a piece of wood. "Clara's able to make her own decisions."

"You know as well as I that she's going to get hurt if she keeps on digging," Michael responded.

"Why do you care?" Alex wondered and Michael eyed Alex with suspicion.

"Because my brother seems to care," Michael responded. "And for some reason that I don't understand, he seems to have taken a liking to her."

Michael didn't know what he was doing, but he suspected he was trying to see what reaction he could gain from Mahone. The man sniffed loudly and ran a hand under his nose before wiping his forehead. He said nothing for a moment, thinking about how he had felt when Clara had told him that she was working alongside Lincoln Burrows. He remained silent then, not bothering to respond to Michael's statement.

"We need that saw," Alex said instead. "We need Lechero and he is up there."

"When we are sure it is safe to go then we go." Michael replied.

"I'm with Alex," Whistler said, pointing to Mahone who simply shrugged.

Alex ignored Michael and made his way to the end of the tunnel, pushing the door open and leaving it on the latch so that they could get back in. Moving to the staircase, they went in a line, quietly moving upwards until they came to Lechero's quarters. Alex went in first, looking around and seeing some men they barely recognised.

"Hey," one called over to them, "you here for the fight? Grab a beer and take a seat."

Once they saw the other two men on the sofa, Whistler and Michael turned around and began running back to the tunnel, Alex overtaking them and rushing down the steps as the men chased them, not relenting. Alex was the first one to the door, grabbing Michael and shoving him inside as he held it open. Whistler was last, panting for breath as one of the men grabbed hold of his ankle and he tripped, falling to the floor as Michael pushed past Alex and reached for him.

He failed miserably, the men grabbing hold of Whistler while Alex took Michael, pushing him behind his body and into the tunnel before kicking a man in the stomach who tried to get into the door. Closing the door, Alex panted for breath as they heard the grunts from Whistler as the men beat him.

"We need to go out there," Michael said, his breathing shallow and voice hoarse as Alex held his hands up, blocking Michael from going anywhere.

"And what do you think will happen when we do?" Alex asked. "They'll kill us."

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

Looking around the room, Alex moved past Michael as he spoke in a low voice. "We get ready for them."

Alex wandered down the tunnel, trying to tune out the noise of Whistler being beaten as he went, hands on his hips as he searched for something that might resemble a weapon. He had no idea what was happening outside, but he knew that Lechero was no longer in charge. If he was then he would be out there demanding for the men to release Whistler.

Finally, Alex found something to make. It was some form of rebar. He held it up and stuck a piece of rock in between it, hoping to weight it down a bit. Holding it in his grip, he knew that someone could do damage with it. Passing it to Michael, he practically forced him to take hold of it before looking for something else.

But then Michael moved by towards the door and Alex watched him, eyes wide as he wondered what the hell he was doing.

"We have you friend Lechero here," a voice called out and Alex swore that it sounded like Sammy. "He's going to give me the combination and then we're coming for you."

Alex and Michael looked to each other before a gunshot echoed and Michael made his move.

"I'm opening the door," he snapped, pulling the door wide open and the men entered.

Alex backed away, pressing himself to the wall as the men moved forwards and he dropped the weapon that he had been holding. Alex groaned lowly as Sammy roared at Lechero once he had seen the hole in the tunnel. Michael began telling Sammy how he could get out, but he made Sammy promise that he would take Whistler. He responded with a swift punch to Michael's face.

Michael bent over as Whistler responded, telling Sammy how it was in his best interests to keep Michael in the plan. Moving to the hole, Sammy peered into it and Alex wondered what was happening before the entire weight that the wood had been holding collapsed down on top of Sammy. Alex pushed his hand to his mouth, stopping him from inhaling any dust as Sammy came tumbling back down.

But the other men in the tunnel acted with haste, ready for a fight. Alex grabbed hold of one of them, his arm coming around his neck as his other hand went to squeeze tightly on his shoulder, keeping him on the ground as he broke his neck in his fingertips. Before he could stop another man, Lechero had the gun that Sammy had dropped and had shot him in the back, leaving them alone in the tunnel.

The men gasped loudly for breath as Alex doubled over for a moment.

"How far does this set us back?" Lechero was the one to wonder.

"We should be more concerned about the guards not seeing the sinkhole," Alex responded quickly and ran away from the tunnel, the other men following him.

They raced towards a cell before coming to the window, peering out and looking over no man's land. Alex let out a deep sigh of relief. They were safe for now. He said nothing, instead keeping his grip on the window as everyone left him alone. He remained stood where he was for a moment before thinking of Michael and what the man must be feeling right about now.

He stayed where he was for a moment before leaving, grabbing a cloth and some alcohol on his way to Whistler's cell. He found him sat on the bunk and handed him the supplies, urging for him to put them to his forehead.

"You could have killed us all," Whistler complained to Michael who shrugged.

"Next time I will try to do better," Michael said and Alex looked at him, knowing exactly what the man was feeling. He felt the same thing most of the time.

"I'm going to head back down and try to salvage some of the braces," Alex responded.

"Yeah, I'll join you," Whistler responded, still annoyed with Michael as he made his way from the cell and Alex followed him before turning back, his hands going to his hips as he looked to Michael for a moment.

"I'd like to tell you it gets easier," he said.

"But it doesn't," Michael concluded.

"No," Alex responded. "Never does."

He began to move again, but before he did, he gripped the cell and turned his head over his shoulder to look back to Michael again. "And as for Clara snooping around The Company…I…I need you to get me out so that I can have her back. I know you hate me and I get it…but…but I owe her."

"I'd have thought you'd run off back to your family," Michael deadpanned and Alex shook his head.

"I need to keep her safe first," he responded and left the room without a second glance behind him.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think! I have the next four chapters written so I might bulk post soon depending on what people want!


	21. Chapter 21

Clara blinked profusely as she stopped panting for breath once her training with Lincoln had come to the end that night. The gym in the hotel was located underground and Lincoln had hired out one of the private rooms to train Clara in late at night. He didn't claim to be an expert on self defence, but he knew how to act when someone was coming at you with clenched fists.

She had collapsed to the ground once they had finished, landing on the soft mat floor as Lincoln chucked her a water bottle and told her what he had been doing all day. She took a swig of the water before wiping the back of her mouth.

"You planted a bomb in her car?" Clara checked what he had just told her. "Firstly, do you not think she will find it? Secondly, how the hell did you know where to buy a bomb from?"

Lincoln chuckled at her outburst, sitting on the opposite side of the room, back leaning against the wall as he took a gulp of water and wiped his forehead. He shrugged his shoulders as he answered her question.

"You can find anything if you put your mind to it," he informed her and she shook her head. "Besides, Sucre made sure it was well hidden. I need a contingency plan in place."

"Yeah," Clara agreed, "but a bomb?"

"Hey, if you have any other great ideas then I'm all ears," he promised her, opening his arms wide to encourage suggestions, but all he got was a sharp shrug and a deep sigh from her as she took a moment to tighten her ponytail.

"And do you think she doesn't know that she's being played?" Clara enquired. "I mean, she can't be stupid."

"I know she isn't stupid," Lincoln said. "I just hope that she doesn't pay attention to what is in her car."

"Good God," Clara whispered, "I am so glad I am staying out of this bit of the plan. I mean…I want to help you but I don't really know anyone who has a bomb making kit at their disposal."

"If you want to help me then I need you to do me a favour," Lincoln said and Clara shrugged.

"What is it?" she wondered from him.

"There's Sofia," he spoke to her. "She…she's innocent in all of this as Whistler's girlfriend, but I think there might come a time when she is in trouble. We're visiting Whistler and my brother tomorrow and I want you to come with me…and then go with her…just make sure she's safe."

"You think that I can keep her safe because The Company don't want to hurt me?" Clara asked.

"Worth a shot," he told her.

"Yeah," Clara nodded. "I'll do it."

…

Clara couldn't deny that Sofia was a stunning woman. Her tanned skin and her dark hair gave her an exotic look. She had been pleasant enough to Clara when Lincoln had introduced her. Clara had shaken her hand politely and offered her a kind smile before going to sign into the visitation at Sona to see Alex. It was only when she saw Lincoln move a hand to Sofia's arm did a smile form on her lips as he jogged to keep up with her.

He signed in and the two of them made their way towards the visitation fence. She said nothing for a moment before her mind began to whirl.

"So," she drawled, tone teasing as she spoke, "how long have you fancied Whistler's girlfriend?"

Lincoln looked to her and shook his head. "It isn't like that."

"No?" Clara wondered. "I saw how you looked at her."

"Listen, we can talk about me and Sofia at the same time we talk about you and Alex," Lincoln deadpanned and Clara rolled her eyes at hearing him. She said nothing further as Lincoln let a smirk move on his face. "Thought so," he muttered.

As they came to the fence, Clara managed to glance to Michael, but her gaze was firmly set on Alex. He moved closer to her and she was relieved to see that the shakes had stopped and his eyes were now set on her instead of flickering all over the place. Letting her lips quirk, she nodded to him as he nodded back and she knew that he was through the worst of it.

"What's happening?" Lincoln asked from his brother.

"We'll be out in twenty four hours so I need you to make sure things are in order on your end of the line," Michael spoke.

"They will be," Lincoln promised his brother.

"So you're making good progress," Clara declared and Michael turned to look at her and she looked back to him, her brows arched and her eyes narrowed. "Listen, Michael, I know you don't want to help Alex-"

"-You have no idea," Michael interrupted her. "But it seems that you're a hard woman to bargain with. My brother told me how you're willing to act as our leverage if I break him out."

"That deal goes away if you screw him over," Clara reminded him and he dropped his hands to his hips.

"As I said, you're a hard woman to bargain with."

Alex remained silent then, his eyes fixed on Clara as she offered Michael one final glower before stepping away and further down the fence, Alex following her, his hand running along the fence as Clara dropped her arms to fold over her stomach, her chin motioning back down to Michael as she spoke in a hushed tone to Alex.

"I take it you're watching him like a hawk?" she checked of him and he offered her a small chuckle.

"Yeah," Alex confirmed. "But that doesn't mean that he can't screw me over. Although I've got to say your mean act back there makes me think he won't."

Clara did smile then as she nodded to Alex. "Well, I like to know where I stand with people. So how you feeling, anyway? You're looking better than when I last saw you."

"Couldn't feel much worse," he responded with a nonchalant shrug. "But I'm getting there. I mean, it isn't easy, but I keep thinking of everything that has happened…and how important it is to get clean."

"You're not wrong," Clara told him. "I know I was harsh on you before-"

"-I needed it," Alex interrupted her. "I needed you to tell me the truth for me to be able to see what I was doing. I ruined myself and said some pretty horrible things, but I want to put it right. In twenty four hours I'll be out of here and able to do that."

Nodding, Clara seemed to understand what she was hearing from him. He wanted to put things right with Pam. He wanted to salvage his marriage. She took a moment to compose herself, her head bobbing up and down as she continued nodding and then she coughed lightly.

"Well, I'm sure your family will be glad to hear it."

Shaking his head, Alex wrapped his hands around the metal grate. "I can't go back home," he told her. "Pam and Cameron are safer without me right now…no…I have other important things to do."

"Like?"

"Like make sure you don't get yourself killed digging into The Company," Alex responded. "You've had my back all the time I have been in here-"

"-You're in here because you took the blame for the drugs," Clara interrupted, glancing down to Michael and shooting an accusatory glance before her eyes went back to Alex.

"No," he shook his head. "We both know I'm here because I deserved it, but you're the only one who hasn't thought that. After everything...trying to get me out…using yourself as leverage…I think it's time that someone watched your back and that's what I'm going to do."

Searching his gaze, there was nothing but a look of honesty that he was showing her. He was telling her the truth and, furthermore, he didn't look at her as though he felt an obligation to help her. He looked at her with a glance that showed that he wanted to do this.

"Alex, I don't want you to think you're in debt to me-"

"-No," Alex agreed, shaking his head. "I'm doing this because I want to. Because I want to be there for you…make sure you're safe…because…I think I care more deeply for you than I want to admit to myself."

Clara looked down then, nodding before picking her gaze back up to meet his and finding the courage to speak. "Likewise," was all she managed to say, "but let's just focus on getting you out of here, okay?"

"Tomorrow," he said and Clara moved her hand over his, squeezing his fingers.

"Tomorrow."

…

Clara had finally met with the infamous Sucre once they returned to the hotel. The man had seemed charming enough, with his tanned complexion and bald head. He had a kindly face and a loyal stare, pretty much saying that he would do anything for anyone. Sofia had gone into the bathroom and Clara had agreed to go with her to grab her stuff from the house she was living in.

"We meet tomorrow," Lincoln said once she had returned from the bathroom. "Do you both know the meeting point?"

"Playa Blanca, 3-12?" Sofia asked, confirming with Lincoln as he nodded his head.

"Exactly," he responded and Clara offered him a small smile before following Sofia out of the room and down the corridors.

Clara had packed all of her belongings and stored them in the cab she had waiting for them outside to take them to Sofia's place. She was gong to spend the night there before going to the meeting point the following day and only then would she be free with Alex.

"Lincoln told me everything about your boyfriend," Clara said, trying to initiate conversation as the woman folded her arms over herself and she glanced to the ground. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm not sure," Sofia answered honestly, wondering why she was even talking to this woman next to her. "I mean, how are you supposed to feel when the man you love is not who you think he is?"

"Devastated," Clara responded without skipping a beat. "It takes time to heal, but then you might not even want to give him another chance. It all depends on how you're feeling yourself."

"I don't know," Sofia responded.

"You don't need to decide right away," Clara said. "Trust me, it took me years before I saw through my ex."

"Why?" Sofia wondered from her and Clara shrugged.

"I don't know," she admitted, pressing the button for the elevator and waiting for it to appear. She said nothing for a few moments as she watched it work its way down the floors to theirs. "Everyone else could see it, but I couldn't…the way he would cut me off talking…or grip onto me when we were out in public…or manipulate me not to go out. I think when you're so in love you're willing to ignore what people say."

"But you didn't?" Sofia wondered as the elevator pinged open and Clara sighed.

"I ignored them for a long time…too long."

…

Sofia had a homely place and Clara couldn't deny that. She had gone into the bedroom to pack a case as Clara placed her small suitcase by the door, her satchel resting on top of it along with her passport and everything she would need for leaving. She moved around the living room quietly, hands behind her back as she heard some noise from the bedroom and her brows furrowed.

"You okay, Sofia?" she wondered.

"Fine," the woman responded and Clara went to stand in the doorway in time to see her trying to hide some kind of briefcase. Pointing to it, Clara stepped into the room.

"What is that?" she asked as her phone began to buzz in her jacket pocket and she pulled it out, looking at the message informing her that the plan had been changed for that night with thanks to the rain. But Clara was too interested in the case for the moment.

Moving over to it, she pulled it from Sofia's grip and sat it down on the bed, watching as the duvet crumpled underneath its weight. Clara pulled at it, but it wasn't opening as Sofia stood behind her shoulder and motioned to it.

"I don't know how to get into it," she said, accepting that she couldn't hide it.

"It's locked, but I don't know how," Clara responded. "Listen, you need to pack a bag now. Lincoln text and said that the plan has changed to tonight."

"Tonight?" Sofia echoed.

"Yeah," Clara said, crouching down so she was eye level with the case on the bed. "So you get packing and I'll try to figure out what this is and how to get into it."

Sofia did as she had been instructed, packing with haste as Clara continued to work on the case, but to no prevail. Shaking her head, she slammed a fist down on top of the silver box and stood up straight, pulling down the short red dress she wore with her tights.

"It's impossible," she complained. "We're taking this with us, though. We can see if Whistler can unlock it."

"He must be able to," Sofia said, zipping up a small case. "It's his." Her voice was curt and Clara suspected she was angry with her boyfriend, not that she could blame her.

It was then when Clara swore she heard a noise from the living room. Standing up, Clara held a hand behind her as Sofia looked and followed her gaze. She said nothing as Clara moved towards the living room, looking around before seeing that the door was ajar. Before she had the chance to turn on her heel and yell at Sofia to run, she felt a hand move over her mouth as she screamed, trying to put everything Lincoln had taught her into practice, but it was no use as a hand squeezed around her neck and knocked her out.

…

"Well, well, well, look who decided to join us?"

Clara opened her eyes, the feeling of grogginess taking hold of her as she tried to move her limbs, only to find that she was restricted. Looking down, she saw that her wrists had been handcuffed behind her as she sat restrained to a chair. She managed to look up, noticing that she was in an empty warehouse of some kind as a woman stood across from her, dressed in a black dress with dark hair, her face plump and a mocking smile on her lips.

"Gretchen?" Clara guessed, still feeling groggy.

"So Lincoln did tell you about me," she said, hand to her chest. "I'm honoured."

"I wouldn't be," Clara responded, "he wasn't exactly pleasant."

Clicking her fingers, she looked on with a sad smile. "Dang," she said with sarcasm.

It was then when the woman checked her phone and Clara noticed Sofia sat opposite her. She wasn't constrained to a chair, but she did have a gun pointed to her forehead. Clara groaned inwardly as she looked to Gretchen and dared to speak, her voice even as she refused to feel intimidated.

"I take it you work for The Company," Clara said.

"Got it in one." Gretchen responded, heels clicking on the floor as she paced up and down.

"So who is it that I know in The Company who wants me alive?" Clara wondered from her and Gretchen looked amused, brow furrowed as she let her gaze move onto Clara's face.

"You still don't know?" she asked of her and Clara rolled her eyes.

"If I knew then I wouldn't be asking you," she sniped and Gretchen continued to look entertained as she checked her watch, knowing that Lincoln would be arriving sometime soon.

"Maybe you'll find out one day," Gretchen said. "Your mommy and daddy certainly did."

Clara continued to watch her then, her eyes wide at what she had just heard from her. Gretchen watched her back before sitting down in her own chair and taking a sip of lemonade from a bottle.

"What did you just say?" Clara demanded and Gretchen challenged her with a harsh stare.

"You heard," she said. "I would have thought those scars on your back would be enough to keep you away, but you just keep on popping back up. Apparently it's to save your little partner in crime, Alex. What is it, Clara? You madly in love with some drug addict killer because you couldn't save your own sister?"

Clara shook in her chair, her body moving with haste as she rocked back and forth. "What the hell did you mean about my parents?"

"Relax," Gretchen demanded. "You'll find out one day."

Clara didn't have a chance to challenge her any further as Lincoln entered the warehouse, his gaze moving between the three women around the table before he saw the men stood around, guns in their fingertips.

"What is this, Susan...Gretchen...whoever you are?" Lincoln demanded.

"Just a little conversation about tonight," she said to him. "I wanted to make sure we were on the same page."

"It's the same as before. Nothing has changed," Lincoln responded quickly.

"No, you see, I want to involve everyone in this," Gretchen declared, looking around the room as Clara let her gaze move to Lincoln and she wondered if he had a plan to get them out of this.

She tried to slip her fingers through the cuff on her wrist, but nothing was working. Instead she had no other option but to keep quiet, her teeth grinding together as Lincoln rolled up the sleeves to his black top.

"Call your brother and put Whistler on. I have a message for him," Gretchen demanded from Lincoln who did as he was told.

He held the phone to his ear as he spoke, his tone flat as he kept his eyes on Sofia. "You with Whistler?" He asked once his brother had picked up. "Gretchen has a message for him."

Whistler came on the other end of the line as Lincoln spoke, looking to Gretchen. "I've got him, what now?"

"Tell him that I want him to listen very closely to what I am about to say," Gretchen said, moving to her feet and taking something from one of the men behind Sofia.

Lincoln began to repeat, but Whistler snapped down the phone, telling Lincoln that he could hear.

"James?" Sofia whispered.

"He wants to know what is happening," Lincoln declared and Gretchen nodded, still perched behind Sofia.

"Okay, I'll let him know," she said and then she lunged forwards, a cigarette digging into Sofia's skin as the woman let out a yell in pain. Lincoln began to move forwards, phone dangling by his side as Clara demanded for Gretchen to stop.

She pulled the cigarette away and Sofia bent over, head on the table as pain wracked through her body and Clara ground her teeth together as Gretchen moved over to Lincoln, holding her hand out and taking the phone back.

"Have you got the coordinates yet?" Gretchen demanded and judging by the response, it was the wrong one as she burned Sofia once again, the girl now beginning to openly cry as she made her ultimatum. "So I want those coordinates by the end of the day or little Sofia…well…" she ended her threat by pushing the cigarette against Sofia's neck once more before hanging up.

Clara shook her head with haste. "You're a real bitch, you know that?" she demanded from her and Gretchen shrugged.

"I've heard that," she promised her and Clara looked over to Lincoln, seeing the pain etched on his face. She might have teased him about how he had a crush on Sofiaa, but she could see now that he was deadly serious about her.

"Clean her up," Gretchen demanded from Lincoln, tossing him a first aid kit as the men in the warehouse wandered around and Clara did her best not to seem too concerned as Lincoln took a seat behind Sofia and sat down, finding something to help with the pain.

"It'll be fine," he promised her, tone soothing as he spoke and Clara wondered if he was telling the truth.

"Besides," Gretchen spoke, sitting down once more and looking to Sofia. "If James loves you then he will give us what we want and you two can go off together."

As Lincoln turned to look to her, Gretchen let a coy smile fall on her face. "Unless you've moved on," she suggested and Lincoln remained stoic, his glare refusing to move from his features.

Clara remained mute, still trying to work with the handcuffs and pull them from her wrist.

"So what is it about Whistler that is so important?" Lincoln demanded.

"That, Lincoln, is none of your business," Gretchen responded and Clara felt the urge to roll her eyes as the woman stood up. "Now get up. We're off to pay a little visit to your boyfriend and find out if he has what we want."

"What about her?" one of the men gestured towards Clara as Gretchen shrugged her shoulders.

"Keep her here for an hour until we've gone and then dump her back at the hotel. She's not our concern," Gretchen responded.

"I'll find out," Clara called out as two of the men pointed to Lincoln and Sofia and gestured for them to move. "Whatever you did to my parents, I will find out."

"I didn't do anything," Gretchen responded. "But good luck, honey."

"She comes with us," Lincoln said and Gretchen dropped a hand to her hip.

"I don't think you're in any position to be making deals," Gretchen replied to Lincoln.

"I'll be fine," Clara said to him, not wanting to see him in anymore trouble than he currently was. "You need to go…I can cope."

Lincoln offered her a stern nod before he began to move off. Clara said nothing as she watched them go, instead her mind was too focused on what Gretchen had just divulged with her.

…

Alex was sweating more than he had thought possible. He had been locked down in Lechero's basement all day, digging as fast as he could until the hole was clear. He continued to pull on the wood, sawing at it and making braces as he focused on the task at hand. He had listened to Bagwell and Bellick try to make deals with him. Bellick was more interested in having a partner in crime while Bagwell told Mahone he was convinced that Scofield would screw them over.

Alex had ignored both of them, instead he was just more interested in getting the job done so that he could get out of this hellhole. He suspected that the evening was slowly dawning over them which meant they didn't have much time and there was still a lot of work that needed to be done.

"We're running out of time."

Michael's voice entered Alex's ear as he bent down to kneel by him, taking him off guard.

"I know."

"No," Michael said with a shake of his head. "Someone from The Company came to visit Whistler with my brother. She wants him out because he has the coordinates she wants…plus he's got his girlfriend as a hostage."

"So how long we got?"

"Until tomorrow morning before the sun breaks," Michael responded. "She also told me to send you a message."

"Who?"

"The woman from The Company," Michael said. "She…she had Clara with her earlier."

"Did she hurt her?" Alex demanded instantly and Michael shook his head in response, calming him down before he grew irrationally angry.

"No," Michael said, "but she told me to tell you that you need to call her off before she gets hurt. Apparently The Company doesn't like people who snoop on their business."

"She won't do that," Alex muttered.

"If she values her life then she will," Michael said. "Besides, we're almost ready to go. Gather everyone up and tell them to dig as fast as they can to make sure we have the chance to get out of here."

"With pleasure."

…

The agent of The Company had dropped Clara off, true to his word. He had taken her back to Sofia's house to let her grab her stuff before she had climbed into the back of the car and let him take her to the hotel. The night was falling over Panama City as Clara stood in the bar, her things by her side as she downed a glass of wine for her nerves.

She had no idea what to do. She had tried to call Lincoln, but he hadn't been picking up. She knew that the only thing she could do was meet at the docks where the boat was going to be. She only hoped everything came together by then.

Pulling her phone out, Clara glanced down to the photo of her parents she had on it. Looking to her mother and father, she wondered exactly what they had been involved in. She didn't know if she wanted to know, but she was curious. She knew that she had to find out.

It took a while before she heard her cell begin to ring and she pulled it out from her pocket, holding it to her ear as she answered it after checking the caller ID.

"Where the hell have you been, Lincoln?" she demanded from him.

"Whistler refused to give up the coordinates so Gretchen has Sofia," he told her. "I'm about to drive into a power cable so that Michael can escape. You know where to meet, yeah? I need you at the boat and ready to go to the meeting point. It's all been paid for."

"You want me to drive a boat?" Clara checked from him.

"I don't want you to do it," he told her. "I need you to do it if Sucre hasn't shown in time."

"Yeah," Clara nodded. "Got it."

"Good," Lincoln said. "And, Clara?"

"Yeah?"

"Take care, got it?"

"You too," Clara said, hanging up and downing the wine before counting down the hours until she had to leave for the meeting point.


	22. Chapter 22

Climbing from the cab, Clara dragged her suitcase and satchel along with her before moving down the docks. She hummed in a low tone as the sun rose over the docks, illuminating the water and glimmering before her. She hadn't slept the previous night, too nervous about the plan to contemplate closing her eyes. Instead she had sat in the bar and then moved to the lobby once it had closed before grabbing a cab.

Saying nothing, she remained at the end of the docks, waiting to hear from Sucre when he made his appearance considering he was supposed to drive the boat. She tried not to act suspicious, her sunglasses covering her eyes as she let her hair fall around her shoulders. Looking around, she wondered where Sucre was before she felt her cell vibrate in her jacket pocket.

Tugging it out, she took Lincoln's call, her voice curt.

"He isn't here," she said.

"I know," Lincoln told her. "Listen, there's this guy whose dad knows about the plan. He's driving the getaway car, but he's going to come down to the dock and I've told him to wait for Sucre."

"And if Sucre doesn't show? I mean, where the hell is he?"

"No idea," Lincoln said. "Listen, I told the man to look for an American woman with long dark hair and a red dress."

"Well I stand out like a sore thumb," Clara responded and Lincoln breathed heavily.

"Yeah," he agreed with her. "Just make sure you're there, got it?"

"Got it."

Hanging up, Clara continued to wait nervously, tapping her foot on the floor as she continued to let out low hums of nervousness. Her eyes flittered around as she ran a hand through her hair, wondering where the man was. She continued to check her cell for the time before standing up. The man had ten minutes before they had to go.

Clara began pacing, her nerves getting the better of her before she saw a man looking around suspiciously. As soon as his eyes landed on her, she moved with haste towards him and he looked to her.

"Clara?" he asked.

"Thank God," Clara said, hand on her chest as she motioned to the dock and grabbed her bag and case. "Listen, we need to go now. I know we were supposed to wait for someone, but I don't think he is showing."

"Do you know how to drive one of these?" he wondered from her and she scoffed as she searched for someone who looked like they would be in charge. She soon found someone and explained how Sucre had yet to show but they had hired the boat together. The man didn't seem to care too much, instead finding the keys and handing them over to Clara.

"Sorry," Clara said to the man she had just met. "I didn't catch your name?"

"Alphonso Gallego," he told her, offering her his hand as she shook it.

"Clara Reynolds," she responded to him and he helped her haul her suitcase into the boat before offering her a hand to climb down into it. She looked around for a moment before moving to the control panel.

Alphonso went to stand by her side and he watched as she put the keys into the ignition. She looked confused as he placed a hand onto her arm and gave her a warm, yet tentative smile. She remained still as she let him take control and finally the boat was moving. Clara took a deep breath as they came to the open water and all she could do was start to hope that he was going to be there.

Closing her eyes, she let a small prayer come into her mind as they kept on making pace quickly, waves splashing around the boat as they went. She was quiet as she stood by the edge, peering into the distance. They were looking for a certain buoy. They had to find the right buoy and they should all be there.

Clara had no idea who would be there. She knew Alex would be there along with Michael and Lincoln, plus Whistler. Apparently there would be this man's son and Clara wondered who he was. He must be important to Michael for him to be brought along. It was either that or Michael pitied him.

"Keep a look out," Clara called over the sound of the wind and waves. "We're getting near to some buoys."

Clara felt the boat slow down as she began pointing to the buoys and reading the numbers on them. She didn't know how long it took before she peered into the distance, tugging her sunglasses from her eyes and placing them on the top of her head. She managed to let her eyes narrow before she felt a sense of elation.

She could see the figures clinging onto the buoy and she remained at the side of the boat as Alphonso slowed down. Clara let her eyes scan the men before her eyes landed on him and she let out a deep sigh of relief. At least Lincoln hadn't killed him yet. Of course, he wasn't going to so long as Clara had her way.

They started waving, grabbing the attention of the boat as Clara wondered how to help them. They all looked exhausted, drained and soaked to the bone, their clothes not doing much to keep them warm.

"Where is Sucre?" was the first question she was asked as Alphonso stopped the engine and moved over to help pull them up.

"He wasn't at the dock," Clara answered Lincoln's question as she helped a young boy into the boat once he had swam to the side of it.

It was then when Clara saw Alex moving to the boat and she reached out for his hand, grabbing hold of it as he hauled himself into the boat and the others did the same. Clara was probably more of a hindrance than help as Alex seemed more than capable of pulling himself into the vehicle. She stepped back once he was in, sopping wet as she tried to avoid getting wet herself.

"You made it," she whispered and Alex nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah," he agreed. "We did."

Nodding, Clara watched him take a step closer to her as everyone settled in the boat. She said nothing for a moment, instead choosing to keep her eyes set on Alex, struggling to look away from him before she heard Lincoln speak. She turned her head over her shoulder to look to him as his hands dropped to his hips and an entertained look sparkled in his eye.

"So you didn't have to drive this thing after all," he teased her and she moved to hit him across the arm.

"Lucky that you sent someone," she responded to him. "Didn't trust me, huh?"

"Not at all," Lincoln responded to her and she shot him a cocky smirk as Alex stood back and watched the exchange, a hand going to his wet hair as he wondered exactly what was going on between the two of them.

He kept his distance before seeing Clara move closer to Lincoln. He couldn't hear exactly what they were saying as the engine roared to life and he moved a hand around the metal pole that held up the canopy over the front of the boat.

"So what do we do now?" Clara asked of Lincoln.

"Well, once we're on land then we get the car that Alphonso drove here and I'm going to go and find my son," Lincoln told her. "We have Whistler."

Clara let her eyes go to the man for a brief second before she looked back to Lincoln. "He's what all the fuss was about?"

"Not much, huh?" Lincoln said. "But you should go your-"

"-I'm going to stop you there," Clara held a hand up. "I'm coming with you. Whatever this Gretchen knows about my parents then I want to know. She's not getting away with telling me nothing. I've had too many people keeping secrets from me in the past and she isn't getting away with it."

"It might be dangerous," Lincoln said.

"That just adds to the excitement," she said, her tone slightly sarcastic as Lincoln peered over her shoulder and caught Alex's gaze, his hands going into fists as he saw him and Clara rolled her eyes. But Alex didn't look at Lincoln for long, instead he seemed much too fascinated by the back of Clara's head.

"You're not going to touch him."

"Want a bet?" Lincoln wondered and Clara shook her head.

"I'd hate to take your money from you," she responded, stepping closer to look him in the eye as she lifted her chin. "I'm serious, Lincoln. You're going nowhere near him and that's final."

With one final warning glance, she turned back around and went to stand in front of Alex as he motioned to Lincoln with a nod of his chin. "He wants me dead."

"And I want to flog my house and move to the Costa del Sol," Clara responded, her face deadpan as she let Alex look down to her. "We don't all get what we want."

Alex felt his lips quirk at hearing that, nodding once as he spoke. "Michael told me that someone from The Company got you."

"Yeah," Clara nodded, pushing her hair behind her ear as she spoke. "She said something about my parents…about how they didn't die in some car accident. I don't really know what she meant…or was going on about…but I need to find out. She warned me to stop snooping, but…"

"You're not going to," Alex trailed off and she shrugged.

"Investigative journalist," she reminded him. "Not in my nature to back off."

It was only then when she saw that Alex was slightly shivering and she moved a hand to feel his wet arm, his shirt drenched against his body as she took a step closer to him and he felt his breathing hitch before reminding himself of the way she had just been with Burrows.

"You're freezing," she observed.

"And there was me thinking that the ocean would be warm in Panama," Alex said and Clara chuckled to him.

"Not when you're stuck in it for a while," she said. "I should have brought some blankets or something…I mean…I doubt you'd want my jacket."

Clara tried to move, clearly determined to find something to help him warm up, but Alex moved to grab her wrist, bringing his hand down to hers as she looked at the contact, wondering exactly what was happening as she dared to look to him, her gaze questioning as Alex kept his eyes on his hand as it moved to engulf hers. Nodding his head, he peered back over to her before his other hand went to her cheek and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"This will do," he mumbled and Clara almost wanted to step closer, forgetting how soaked he was, to feel the warmth from his body. She didn't, instead she let him keep his hand in hers as she turned to look over the side of the boat. The hand that had been on her cheek went to hold onto the pole of the canopy once more as he moved so that his shoulder was brushing against hers and he watched her glance out to sea, wondering exactly what was going through her mind, just as he wondered what was going through his.

It didn't take long before they reached the shore and Alex was as courteous as ever, dragging Clara's suitcase along for her as they disembarked, his other hand helping her from the boat as she offered him a slim smile. Falling into step besides each other, Clara followed Lincoln on the way the getaway car before thanking the man who had helped him.

Clara had also given her thanks while everyone changed into dry clothes and Alex chucked Clara's suitcase in the trunk while she held onto her satchel. Climbing into the car, she saw in the middle, in between Alex and Whistler. Lincoln began to drive before he heard his phone begin to ring and Michael shot him a knowing glance.

"We ran into some trouble," Lincoln declared. "We're in downtown Panama."

"Are we?" Clara wondered, peering around Alex to look out the window.

"Shit," Lincoln suddenly said. "We've got some company."

Clara turned around in her seat in time to see a black car gaining on them.

"Might want to drive a little faster, Lincoln," she suggested to him and he hit the accelerator pedal, but the car behind them seemed to keep up. Clara barely had a chance to turn back to face the front before Lincoln called out.

"Hold on," Lincoln demanded from them.

"How do they know where we are?" Clara wondered as she felt her hand go to Alex's arm to stop her from falling into this Whistler guy. Alex moved quicker, his arm moving to bend around her waist as his other hand held the seat in front of him.

"They must have bugged the kid's dad," Alex said.

"Or the vehicle?" Lincoln suggested.

"The stopwatch," Michael called out and looked behind to see Whistler. "What did you do with the stopwatch that Gretchen gave you?"

It was then when Whistler pulled out a stopwatch and Michael snatched it from him, tossing it out the window as Clara rolled her eyes. Quite clearly it was too late now. Lincoln continued driving erratically as Clara dared to move an arm to grip hold of Alex's waist, her fingers curling around his side as he looked down to her, his grip increasing as he did his best to make sure she stayed still as the car continued to weave on the road.

As they continued moving it was then when Lincoln pulled to an abrupt stop.

"A dead end?" Alex demanded.

"Stay in the car if you want."

Clearly he didn't fancy that option as he leapt from the vehicle and followed the other three, Clara lagging behind as he moved his hand to grab hold of hers, dragging her along as she kept her satchel on her shoulder and abandoned her suitcase. As the door was pushed open to a hut in the middle of nowhere, Clara entered, Alex pushing her inside and keeping low, his body crouched over hers.

Moving to the window, Lincoln broke it with his elbow before firing shots. Shots were fired back for a moment before Lincoln moved to some kind of boombox and hit play on it, the noise of gunshots firing out as Lincoln ushered them all out of the back of the building and into another car.

Clara took her place next to Alex as Whistler sat next to her. She said nothing, instead bending over and gasping for breath as she struggled to control her breathing. Moving a hand to the small of her back, Alex ran his hand up and down, trying to soothe her.

"How long has that bought us?" Clara demanded as Lincoln shrugged.

"Enough time."

"This is madness," Whistler said and Clara refused to look at him.

"Yeah, well, we're doing this on my terms," Lincoln snarled. "We're not doing this on her terms."

"They just want the exchange," Whistler protested.

"And they'll get it," Lincoln promised in a low and harsh voice as he continued driving. "But I am doing this how I want to do it so shut up and get over it."

Whistler seemed to do as he was told then as they drove in silence. It was another minute before Clara dared to move her hand blindly towards Alex, her eyes still set on the front and where they driving to. Alex seemed to understand, moving his hand to take hold of her shaking one as he realised she hadn't been in many gunfights before. Keeping hold of her fingers inside of his, Alex let his thumb move over her knuckles as she remained on edge until Lincoln pulled up to some kind of abandoned warehouse.

"This is where it is happening?" Clara asked as they climbed from the car but she kept her grip in Alex's hand as she looked around.

"Yeah," Lincoln answered.

It was then when Clara saw how Whistler was struggling to move. She didn't like the sound of him considering how he had lied to Sofia and Sofia seemed like a pleasant enough girl. Clara motioned to him, her voice haughty as she spoke.

"What's up with him?" she wondered.

"I am here," Whistler responded.

"Yeah, and you're causing more problems than you're worthy by the sounds of it," Clara said, her glare going to him as he arched a brow and Clara nodded. "As I thought."

"He fell during the escape," Alex declared. "Think he's just got a deep cut on his foot or something."

"Right," Clara said as Alex dropped her hand from his and he moved to help Whistler limp into the warehouse and Lincoln called Gretchen, phoning her to tell her the new location and how things would happen the way he wanted them to.

As she followed Michael and Lincoln upstairs, she looked at the back of their heads. "Did she buy it?" she wondered.

"Seems like it," Lincoln was the one to answer, nodding his head at her as she bit down on her lip and shook her head.

"It just seems too easy," she commented. "I mean…does anybody believe this Whistler guy? What, he's just a fisherman?"

"No one believes him," Michael answered her as they came to the loft and Clara saw Alex tending to Whistler, helping him with his injury. "But so long as we keep an eye on him then we're doing this exchange and getting out of here. I'd suggest you do the same."

"I'm going nowhere until I get answers," Clara said, brushing by them as they went to stand by the window and keep lookout.

Clara went to Alex who was stood in the corner of the warehouse, arm over his stomach as he let his hand hold onto his chin. Clara managed to offer him a small smile, her hands going to flatten out the red dress she wore as she tugged at the tights underneath it and pull them up from where they had fallen down.

"So, we're waiting for the exchange," Clara said.

"No," Alex said with a shake of his head.

"What do you mean no?" she asked of him and he took her wrist, dragging her into a room off the warehouse. Closing the door, Alex peered through the glass, looking out of it to make sure Scofield and Burrows weren't spying on him.

"You're not going to get your answers by sitting here and being part of the exchange," Alex warned her. "This Gretchen…she's not going to tell you anything. She isn't here to dig into your family history. She's here to do a job and as soon as she has done that then she's gone."

"But she knows," Clara complained, arms flapping by her side. "She knows what happened to them and I need to find out. They were my parents and if they knew something about The Company or somebody who worked in it then I want to know."

"And I get that," Alex promised her, moving quickly to run his hand along the back of her neck, his fingers curling into her hair as he cradled her skull. "I get it, Clara, and I am going to help you, but staying here is not going to bring you any answers. We need to go…we need to be smart."

"Why?" Clara wondered from him. "What do you know that I don't?"

"I know that if I stay here then Lincoln Burrows is going to try to kill me," Alex informed her. "And no matter how close the two of you have grown, we both know he still wants me dead."

"How close we've grown?" Clara wondered and Alex shrugged. "I've been working with him, but that's it. You know that."

"Yeah," Alex said, not entirely convinced. "But we need to go, Clara. Just believe me…the answers are not with Gretchen."

"Then who are they with?"

"I don't know," Alex admitted to her, "but we're going to find out. Just trust me…we'll dig and solve this. Believe me, I want those guys gone just as much as you do after everything they did. Scofield and Burrows do not care about what happens, just that they get the exchange done. Believe me, Gretchen is not the answer."

Clara took a deep breath before she dared to reach out, her hand going around Alex's forearm as she tugged on it, her grip harsh as she looked him in the eye. "Promise me we'll get to the bottom of this."

"I promise," Alex nodded, moving to take hold of the small of her back in his palm, urging her forwards and into the warehouse.

She looked to Lincoln and Michael as Mahone spoke, Whistler looking on with intrigue.

"Listen," Alex said, "we have no reason to be here so we're just going to go…"

"No reason to be here?" Lincoln was the one to ask. "But what about Gretchen? I thought you wanted her."

"We both know Gretchen is only here for the transfer," Alex was the one to answer for Clara as she shrugged and agreed with him. "She isn't going to give Clara the answers that she wants."

"And Clara isn't going anywhere," Michael said. "She is our leverage over these people."

"No," Alex said, pointing to the room Whistler was in. "He is your leverage now. You don't need her for this anymore so we're going."

"I don't think so," Lincoln was the one to declare as Alex turned his back on the brothers, but Clara remained stood facing them as Lincoln pulled out a gun from the waistband of his trousers. Taking a deep breath, Clara shook her head.

"Turn around," Lincoln demanded of Alex. "I want to look you in the eye when I do this."

"You're doing nothing," Clara said, refusing to move from in front of Alex. "I've told you, Lincoln, I won't let you do this. Look…I like you…I really do…but I'm not going to stand aside and let you kill him."

"You're going to have no choice," Lincoln warned her. "I'm going to do this."

Alex turned around to look to Lincoln, his eyes wide as he spoke, his voice open and honest. "I made a choice," he said, "I had to pick between your family…and my family…Clara…"

"That doesn't matter," Lincoln said.

"Linc," Michael said, moving to stand behind his brother. "Don't do this."

"Have you lost your mind, Lincoln?" Clara wondered from him. "He knows what he did was wrong and you know he regrets it…but it was his family…you need to understand that."

"I understand nothing," Lincoln said. "All I know is that he killed my father and I want him dead. You'd understand that if you weren't so madly in love with him."

Shaking her head, Clara felt her cheeks tinge red. "I am not in love with him," she snapped at him. "So why don't you just-"

"-Not in love with him?" he echoed, a tone of disbelief in his voice. "Yeah, right, mind you, you probably don't remember that night because you were so out of your face…crying about how he could never want to be with someone like you…how you had no chance."

"I was drunk!" Clara defended herself, her voice high pitch as she spoke. "I didn't know what I was saying."

"Of course not," Lincoln responded and Clara shook her head while Alex looked confused for a moment, but that confusion soon disappeared as he looked down to her and she stepped forwards, the gun aimed directly at her chest.

"You'll have to shoot me to get to him."

"Clara," Alex protested.

"No," Clara said. "Enough blood has been spilt. I want this to end now."

"Let them go, Linc," Michael urged his brother. "Just let them go."

Lincoln met Clara's eyes for a moment, a gaze of tension between them. But it was then when they heard a smashing noise and they turned around to see that Whistler had thrown a chair out the window and was trying to escape. Alex moved then, grabbing hold of Clara by the hand and dragging her to the staircase.

"Mahone!" Lincoln roared, but the two of them were already going, Clara grabbing her bag that she had dumped by the staircase. She swung it onto her shoulder and kept up with Alex as they left the warehouse, running in the opposite direction to Lincoln and Michael.

Clara was out of breath by the time they had reached the main road and Alex hailed a cab after a few moments. He opened the door and bundled her in, giving an address without Clara saying anything. All she could do was hold her sides and bend over, feeling some kind of stitch in her side.

"You alright?" Alex wondered from her.

"Yeah," she nodded back. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good," Alex told her, "because I have a lot to explain to you."

"Like?"

"Like how we're going to take down The Company," Alex said and Clara's brow furrowed. "But we need to get somewhere safe first…I'll explain in a bit."

Clara waited with bated breath before the cab pulled up outside a bar and Clara tossed the money over the seat. She said nothing further as Alex held the door open for her and she stepped onto the sidewalk. She moved to follow Alex as he held the door to the bar open.

"What can I get for you?" the bartender asked and Clara looked around. It was empty, but then again, it was still early in the morning.

"Soda," Alex answered.

"Glass of white wine," Clara responded, pulling the money from her purse as Alex arched a brow.

"White wine?" he asked her. "Is that such a good idea?"

"Maybe not," Clara responded before leaning against the bar and looking to the bartender. "Can I have the bottle?"

She added some more money to the bar before taking the bottle and the glass and moving to the corner of the bar, sitting down on a chair and sipping on her wine as Alex followed with her soft drink. He perched himself down on the chair next to hers, sipping on his drink as Clara looked to him.

"Explain," she urged from him.

"If my suspicions are correct then James Whistler is going to come through that door by the end of the day with Gretchen Morgan and offer me a chance to work for The Company," Alex said and Clara let her eyes widen, her grip on the glass of wine increasing as she shook her head.

"What…how…"

"He told me something interesting," Alex admitted to her. "About how he is pretending to work for The Company…work with Gretchen…"

"But what is he actually doing?" Clara wondered.

"Working against them with Homeland Security," Alex said. "He's trying to bring them down."

"And how the hell does he do that?" Clara wondered and Alex shrugged.

"I'm not sure on that front," Alex admitted to her. "But I'm hoping to find out when he comes here."

"And then what?" Clara wondered from him. "We join him? We join her? Do you know how crazy she is? She burnt Sofia…with the butt of a cigarette. I don't want to be anywhere near her."

Offering her a sad smile, Clara remained staring at Alex as he moved his hand towards her cheek, letting his fingers run over the curve of her cheekbone, his touch tender as Clara pieced two and two together, her voice tentative as she spoke.

"I'm not going to be anywhere near her, am I?" Clara asked. "Because you have no intention of letting me come along."

"That would be correct," Alex informed her with a nod of his head. "Clara, I know you want to get to the bottom of this, but it's too dangerous. It's too dangerous to be a part of and if anything happened to you-"

"-I can take care of myself," Clara said, interrupting Alex as she leant forwards and took hold of Alex's arm that was dangling over the back of her chair. "I need to do this. So what? You walk out of here with Whistler and then what?"

"You go home," Alex told her. "You go home and you make a life for yourself. I will get you the answers that you want, Clara, but you don't need to be involved."

"No," Clara said defiantly with a shake of her head. "I am involved. I want to be involved."

"And I am telling you no," Alex said, his voice stern too as she watched him, her eyes wide as Alex let out a deep breath. "These people have ruined our lives…I'm going to put a stop to it, but you're going home."

"Why?" Clara wondered from him.

"Because if anything happened to you then I wouldn't be able to live with myself," Alex informed her and she shook her head with haste as he spoke to her. It took a moment for him to gather the courage and move to cradle her cheeks, looking her in the eye. "Because I owe you so much and this is how I am going to repay you…by keeping you safe."

"No," Clara said again. "Alex, if anything happened to you…do you not get it? Do you not see?"

It was then when he chuckled, shaking his head at her. "No, I see perfectly," he promised her, hoping that she understood what he meant as he watched her. "I see perfectly."

They didn't need anymore words, both of them silently understanding what they meant. Throughout the past few months they had been each other's rocks. Alex had been there for Clara back in Chicago. He had been there to take care of her and she had repaid the favour in Panama. Without her then Alex didn't know what would have happened.

They both sat in silence then, sipping on their drinks. Clara finished the bottle of wine but didn't order another as Alex took his drink slowly. He remained silent, the white top clinging to him with thanks to the heat as he kept his gaze on the window.

He didn't know how long it was before Whistler made his appearance known and entered the bar, looking down to Alex and Clara before taking a seat. Glancing over to Clara, he folded his arms over his chest.

"You know, for someone who teaches adults, you're pretty rude," he declared to her and Clara scoffed.

"You haven't seen anything yet," she informed him. "So what? You're a double agent?"

"You told your girlfriend about the plan?"

"I have a name," Clara responded, "and I am not his girlfriend. So what is it? You're playing The Company?"

"Perhaps," Whistler responded before looking to Alex. "So are you in?"

"And Gretchen?" Alex wondered.

"Waiting outside in the car."

"Then you better be sure she can handle what is about to happen," Alex said, eyeing Whistler with suspicion and knowing. "Because if she has done what Michael thinks she has done…to Sara…then he's going to be coming after her. She's the weak link in all of this."

Alex knew what Michael was like when he wanted to find someone. He didn't rest until he had them found and Gretchen was going to be the one on his radar now.

"Nice speech, Alex, but are you in or are you out?" Whistler demanded.

"I'm in," Alex answered and Clara shook her head.

"And I want in," she said, chin held high as she looked to Alex and he shook his head as Whistler chuckled.

"And what do you offer?" he enquired from her.

"I have a right to know what The Company are hiding from me," Clara said. "I want in. I want in and I want to come with you."

"I don't think so," Whistler responded. "Say goodbye to her and meet us outside."

Whistler stood back up and walked out as Alex made a move to stand. Clara pushed herself to her feet, grabbing her bag and holding tightly onto it as she let it dangle on her shoulder. Shaking her head back and forth, she felt Alex take hold of her hand once more, his grip tight as she looked to him.

"Don't," she urged him. "Don't do this."

"I have to," Alex whispered. "I owe it to my family…to you…"

"No, you don't," Clara responded. "You don't owe me anything, Alex. I just want you not to go or take me with you. It's that simple."

Alex chuckled then. "When it comes to you, it is never simple," he promised her, dropping her hand as he backed out of the bar. "Goodbye, Clara."

"No," Clara said with a shake of her head, following him out and catching the door before it could close. "You do not get to decide what I do…or say goodbye to me…"

"Clara," Alex complained as Whistler stood by the passenger door and Gretchen rolled the window on the driver's side down, rolling her eyes at the sight she saw.

"Get out of here, honey," Gretchen demanded and Clara glowered over to her as Alex opened the door to the backseat, but Clara grabbed hold of it, her gaze pleading as she watched him.

"This is a mistake," she promised him. "And you know that."

Shaking his head at hearing that, Alex moved quickly then, knowing exactly what he wanted to do as he dared to take her hand that was on the door, but instead of pushing her away, he pulled her to him and acted with haste, bending down until his lips were pressed against hers.

Clara startled, wondering what he was doing, but by the time she had realised that his lips were on hers, he was pulling away, the moment fleeting and enough to make Clara wonder if it had even happened. Offering her one more smile, Alex spoke in a whisper.

"I've made a lot of mistakes," Alex told her, "but meeting you wasn't one of them. Look after yourself, Clara."

Before she could do anything, Alex was climbing into the car and shutting the door. The car began to drive off and Clara had no option but to stumble into the middle of the road, peering after it as it sped off and she had no chance to go after it. Instead she could only remain stood where she was as Alex peered out the rear window and watched her disappear in the distance.

Clara remained stood where she was, her lips tingling from the feeling of Alex's lips on hers. He had gone. He had left her. But he had gone to help. Clara shook her head, knowing that Alex had been right with what he had said about Gretchen. Michael would be looking for her and if he found her then he could find Alex.

All that Clara had to do was try to find Michael. If she found him then she could find her way back to Alex again.

...

A/N: Two chapters tonight! Do let me know what you think and we move onto season four next!


	23. Chapter 23

Clara knew exactly where it was she had to go. Catching a cab, she gave the driver Sofia's address, hoping that no one had found the briefcase that she had been trying to break into. She urged for the cab to move quicker, her fingers drumming on her thigh as she finally pulled up outside the house. But she wasn't alone. Paying and thanking the driver, she climbed out, clinging onto her bag before moving into the house.

She was hesitant to begin with, but that hesitance left as soon as she saw Michael and Lincoln in the room. They turned around to look to her as she let her eyes widen. Tentatively, she stepped into the room and she knew that the brothers were less than impressed with her. That was probably down to her antics earlier.

"Listen," Clara said in a small voice, "what happened earlier-"

"-I don't want to talk about that," Lincoln interrupted her, eyebrows rising up on his forehead as he looked to her. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I want to help."

"You said that you wanted to help before."

"And I did," Clara informed him. "Granted, I wasn't that helpful because Sofia was kidnapped."

"And now she's in a hospital," Lincoln spat out as Clara let her eyes widen.

"What the hell happened?" she enquired of him.

"She was shot and Whistler escaped with The Company. Did you know that he was working with Gretchen? He's working with The Company," Lincoln declared before Michael looked to Clara, a hand holding his chin as he observed her and her red cheeks and eyes.

"Where's Alex?" Michael asked and Clara looked away.

It didn't take long for Michael to piece two and two together. "He's gone to work for them," Michael declared. "He abandoned you."

"No," Clara challenged him, refusing to listen to him say anything further. It took a moment before she could speak again, a lump in her throat as she did so. "Whistler isn't working for The Company. He's trying to bring them down by working with Gretchen. I don't know how, but Alex isn't working for them. He's working against them."

"And you expect us to believe that?" Lincoln wondered from her.

"Believe what you want, I know the truth," Clara responded. "Alex would never go back and work for the people who threatened to hurt his family. You know that, just as I know that."

"When it comes to Mahone then I know nothing," Lincoln said with a shake of his head. "All I know is that we've all been played and Sara is dead because of it."

Clara looked down, unable to look at the brothers as Michael sighed, knowing that he had no time to waste. He moved back into the bedroom and Clara dared to peer sideways, seeing that they had gotten into the briefcase. Clara picked her head up and moved to stand in the doorway.

"You got into it?"

"How did you know about it?" Lincoln challenged her.

"I saw Sofia trying to break into it before we were captured," she declared. "I figured it might have an answer about who James Whistler is that could help lead me to Alex."

"And I have the information," Michael told her, tucking a bunch of brown folders underneath his arm while Clara arched a brow. "And I am going to go and find Gretchen and kill her for what she did to Sara."

"Then I want to help," Clara protested, but Michael shook his head firmly.

"I'm doing this alone," Michael responded. "You're not coming with me. I don't even know if I can trust you."

"I trust her," Lincoln piped up, nodding his head as he looked to her with intrigue for a moment, trying to weigh up if he could actually trust her. He hoped that he could. "She's had plenty of opportunities to turn us in to The Company, but she never had. She's not part of them."

"Regardless," Michael responded, "she's not coming with me."

"I need to know where he is," Clara said, her voice pleading as Michael began to move from the bedroom and towards the door. "Please…Michael…if he's in trouble-"

"-Then I don't care," Michael interrupted with a shake of his head, his voice growing even more irate with each passing moment. "I don't care about Alex. All I care about is getting my revenge for Sara and that is it."

"Michael…please…" Clara said as Lincoln folded his arms and watched her stare after Michael, but he didn't turn around. Instead he went to the door and held it open wide, calling back to Lincoln.

"Let's go, Linc," he urged his brother as Lincoln nodded, moving a hand to rest on Clara's arm lightly as he passed her by and all she could do was stare after them hopelessly.

"Go home, Clara…forget about him," Lincoln urged of her and she shook her head with haste, turning to look away as they both left her alone in the house.

"No chance in hell is that going to happen."

…

Clara had been home for two weeks and ever since then she had returned to work after being told that the head of department was considering her position at the college. But in her spare time, Clara did everything in her power to find Alex. She still had contacts in the journalism industry, granted they were shocked to hear from her after years of silence, but she managed to persuade them to look into The Company.

The problem was that no one believed her. No one knew anything about The Company, not even those with contacts in government. Everything felt like a complete dead end. Clara found herself still searching, her living room wall covered with everything she could find about Gretchen and Whistler, but it was proving elusive.

She sat down on the floor, her laptop open in front of her and a glass of wine to the side of her. She had changed into her gym gear after attending another class that night, her hair pulled back and her face still red from the warmth. She had the TV on in the background providing noise while her main attention was on the research.

Before she could do anything further, the doorbell rang and Clara stood up, taking a sip of wine as she made the motion. Walking over towards it, she pulled the wood open to see a familiar sight on her porch. She said nothing as she chewed down on her lip and glowered at the man on her doorstep.

"What is it?" Clara demanded from the man stood there.

"I saw you on the news, Clara," he responded, hands going through his hair. "You've been busy trying to help that Agent friend of yours…Mahone…after everyone he killed."

"You know nothing."

"True," he responded to her, "the news didn't report much on it, just that he was claiming his innocence. Everything was very secretive."

"Get lost, Tom," Clara demanded, not wanting to engage in conversation with the man stood across from her. Instead she tried to shut the door, but Tom's foot was there in an instant, blocking her.

It took her a moment before she could stop the fear inside of her at the motion. She kept the door tightly in her grip as Tom moved his hand to hold it, both of them pushing against each other.

"Get out," Clara demanded from him.

"Not until I get what I want," Tom reported. "You see, I gave you a deadline, Clara. I told you that you had until the weekend to sell the house and give me my half…that was…what? Three weeks ago? Four weeks ago?"

"This is my house as much as yours," Clara informed him. "And I told you that I would sell it, but I have been pretty busy. Besides, if you had asked nicely then I would have bought out your half of the house, but you didn't, Tom."

"Then do that and I'll get off your back," Tom demanded from her.

"Not a chance in hell," Clara hissed at him, looking at him with contempt. "You see, I don't give a shit about what happens to you or your money troubles. You're not my problem now."

He saw red then and acted with haste, pushing the door open and overpowering Clara as he moved into the house. She wondered what the hell he was going to do as she saw him glance to the pictures on the wall, brow furrowing as he did so.

"What is that?" he asked.

"A research project, now get out," Clara said and that seemed to be enough to bring his attention back to her.

"No," Tom said. "You see, we're going to pack your things, Clara. We're going to pack and you're going to move out…rent an apartment at short notice…"

"I am not," Clara responded, moving to grab hold of her landline phone. "Now get out of my house before I call the police."

Before she had a chance to punch in the numbers, Tom had pushed the phone from her grip, letting it fall to the floor as his hand went to the back of her head and gripped hold of her ponytail, tugging down on it and causing her to wince in pain. Tom moved quickly then, dragging her by her hair towards the kitchen, his free hand moving into kitchen cabinets as he pulled things out.

"It isn't difficult," Tom told her, grabbing the plates and putting them on the worktop. "You take things out and you box them up, see?"

"Get off me!" Clara roared at him, her voice harsh and demanding before she acted.

She remembered everything that Lincoln had taught her and what she had learned in her classes. She remained mute as she acted quickly, moving her elbow until it was square with Tom's stomach and she pushed back with as much brute force as possible. Tom gasped in pain as he doubled over, his grip on her hair weakening as she took the opportunity to elbow him in the stomach once more.

"You bitch!" he roared at her as she stood up tall and moved her fist to make contact with his face, no doubt leaving a bruise as she pulled back and held her knuckles, her voice shaking as she watched him hold his face and remain bent in pain.

"Get the hell out of here," Clara roared at him.

"Why?" Tom asked. "You don't have your new boyfriend to stick up for you, Clara…whoring yourself out to him…"

"Do you think I need him?" Clara asked of Tom as he lunged towards her.

She ducked to avoid him, slipping under his arm before grabbing hold of it and twisting it behind his back as he grunted in agony and Clara began pushing him towards the door. She found that considerably easy to do considering she was minutes away from being able to break his arm.

"I can beat your ass without the help of any man," Clara said. "So get out and never bother me again. I'll transfer the money when the house is sold, but it will be on my terms or I will call the police and have you arrested for harassment."

"You beat me," Tom said. "I don't think they'd take kindly to that."

Clara scoffed. "Yeah, because it wouldn't hurt your ego to know everyone that a woman punched you," she said, voice full of sarcasm as she finally came to the front door and pushed him through it one final time, watching him stumble on the porch as she slammed the door shut.

She heard him yelling from outside. He wouldn't stop and Clara contemplated calling the police, but she refused to let him win. Instead she found herself picking up her glass of wine and sipping slowly on it, burying her head into her hands once she had finished.

She didn't know why she was shaking. She had beaten Tom. She had been the one to kick him out. But all she could think was of how angry he had been. He had looked at her as though she was nothing but trash. He had looked at her with such distaste that she wondered what more he would have done. She continued to shake before doing exactly what she didn't want to.

She stood up and began packing her things into boxes she brought out from the spare bedroom. He could have half the house and then that would get him out of her life. She didn't sleep that night, instead choosing to stay awake and finish putting everything into boxes, piling them up in the dining room.

The next day she would arrange a removal truck to put them into storage. Clara didn't want to say in Chicago while Tom was still around. Instead she picked up the phone and called the only member of family that she had left.

"Lisa…I need your help."

…

Scylla. It was all that Alex could think about. He had been gone for over three weeks when it had happened. The phone call had almost mended his broken heart as he listened to his wife on the phone. She was willing to give him another chance. She wanted to be with him. Alex had felt the smile on his face continue to grow as she said those words to him.

She had sounded so genuine and all Alex could do was make his way back to Colorado. He had been working with Whistler to retrieve Scylla, The Company's little black book, but it had been to no avail. Whistler had been shot and Alex had tried to convince Michael that he truly was bringing down The Company. He didn't know if Michael had believed him as they had been separated as soon as Whistler was shot.

Alex had rushed back to the car and called Pam. That was when she had told him how she was willing to come back to him; to make their marriage work. The drive to Colorado had been long and tedious. His mind had wandered off of Pam and onto Clara, wondering exactly what she was getting up to.

He had promised her that he would look into The Company. He had made that promise and now he was working to go back to Pam. He felt as though he had betrayed Clara, but he made a silent promise that he would go back to her. And then he had turned his thoughts to the moment he had kissed her outside of that bar before leaving.

Would she feel betrayed by him? Did she think that he was leading her on? Truth be known, Alex didn't exactly know why he had pressed his lips to Clara's, only that he wanted to do it. He had chuckled at that. He wanted to do a lot of things, but he didn't go through with it. His feelings for Clara were still a mystery, but he had buried them in order to get to his wife.

Only he had been too late. He had pulled up outside of the house and he had seen the cordon and the cop cars. He had slowed down, abandoning the car before pushing his body from the vehicle, tossing his sunglasses to the side as he ran with haste towards the house his wife lived in. He was restrained by cops as he yelled out in pain, demanding to be let in and see his wife.

But they had told him that he didn't want to go in there. It was then when Alex knew that they had gotten to his family. They had finally destroyed everything.

…

Clara could hardly believe what she was reading as she curled onto the sofa in her cousin's apartment. She had changed into her pyjamas, the newspaper in her grip as her cousin sat to the other end of the sofa. She still wore her suited black dress on her body, her heels kicked off as she watched Clara with intrigue.

"You can talk to me," she urged her and Clara folded the newspaper in half. "Clara, what has been going on in your life?"

Clara chuckled and dropped the paper into her lap, leaning forwards to pick up the glass of white wine from the glass coffee table. She had her eyes set on the wine as she felt her cousin continue to stare at her.

"I don't know if you would believe me," Clara let out a deep breath.

"I might do," she responded, raking a hand through her straight hair as she set her eyes on the newspaper and saw the front page. The convicts from Fox River had been arrested and placed in a super max facility. "Just talk to me."

"Where do you want me to start, Lisa?" Clara wondered in a small voice. "I mean…there was this guy…Alex…he worked my sister's case and we stayed in touch." She didn't bother to mention Shales. She kept up with the pretence. "Anyway, he told me that there was this mysterious organisation called The Company who were making him kill off the Fox River Eight."

"What?" Lisa asked, her voice hoarse and her mouth dry as she continued to remain intrigued by what she was hearing from her cousin. "That sounds ridiculous."

"I thought so too," Clara responded, "until they sent an agent to threaten me. Apparently Alex should never have involved me and they warned me that if I went to the cops then I'd be in trouble. Anyway, I got involved…ending up going with Alex to track one of the cons and they…Lisa…"

Moving towards her cousin, Lisa took hold of her hand, holding onto it tightly and squeezing. Clara looked down to her lap, her eyes welling with tears. She didn't want to relive it, but she was struggling not to. All she could picture was the man as he held her down and dug the knife into her.

"What happened, Clara?" Lisa demanded, her voice tender as Clara sniffed.

She uncurled her hand from Lisa's and stood up, unbuttoning her shirt as she turned around, the pyjama shirt falling down her shoulders. Lisa let out a large gasp, her head shaking back and forth as she stood up and looked to the scars. She didn't dare move out and touch them. Instead she let Clara do her shirt back up and she took her hand again.

"What the hell did they do to you?" Lisa worried.

"They sent someone to torture me," Clara whispered. "I'd met with Michael Scofield and Lincoln Burrows and they thought I knew something…and I did…I knew they were innocent, but I didn't tell him anything. He just warned me to stay away."

"And you didn't?" Lisa wondered and Clara chuckled.

"More fool me, huh?" she responded, holding onto Lisa's fingers as she sunk back down onto the sofa and Lisa sat closer to her. "Michael Scofield sent me an email of the President admitting her brother was alive…and her lover."

Lisa pulled a face, wrinkling her forehead as Clara let her free hand wipe her eyes.

"I know," Clara agreed with her look of disgust. "Anyway, The Company sent another agent round and told me they wanted to talk to me. I ran. I didn't trust them…so I went with Alex to Panama. He intended to run away and escape them and he told me to go with him."

"Alexander Mahone ended up in a Panamanian jail, didn't he?" Lisa wondered. "I saw it on the news. He ended up being busted for drug smuggling."

Clara scoffed. "That's ironic, really," Clara said. "Alex had a drug problem, but he didn't smuggle drugs. Scofield planted them in the boat and he ended up in jail. Anyway…I tried to get Alex out…called Internal Affairs at the FBI and they set up a hearing for him to give his testimony in the Lincoln Burrows case. It didn't go to plan and Alex…he ended up back in jail and then escaped with Scofield and some others."

Lisa tried to take in what she was hearing as Clara folded her legs back underneath her body, tiredness washing over her as she let her eyes wander to the full length window of the penthouse apartment her cousin owned. The view over the coast was stunning, even in the dark.

"And now he's in jail," Lisa concluded, motioning to the paper that Clara had been reading.

"And now he's in jail," she echoed.

"Why did he come back to the States if he was a wanted man?" Lisa enquired and Clara shrugged her shoulders.

"No idea," she admitted to her. "I mean…he…he was talking about trying to take The Company down, but there was this woman who worked for them. She was called Gretchen and she said that my parents were involved with The Company and I don't know what she was going on about."

Lisa tried not to ask her any further questions. Instead her mind was in a whirl at what her cousin was just telling her. It took her a moment before she bit down on her lip and Clara sent her a pleading look, her eyes wide and still wet.

"You don't think I'm mad, do you?" Clara wondered from Lisa. "I mean, I would understand if you did. Everything I have just told you sounds ridiculous and even I'm struggling to believe it, but it's the truth."

"I know," Lisa said, moving to take hold of her other hand. "I know, Clara. I do believe you. You're not crazy and the things that happened with Caroline Reynolds and Lincoln Burrows were proven to be true."

"Thank you," Clara said, a hysterical short laugh escaping her. "I mean, I feel as though I'm going crazy and it's all I can think about…The Company…my parents…Alex…"

"I take it you're close to Alexander Mahone? You've got to be to follow him to Panama," Lisa said and Clara shrugged, avoiding her gaze then.

"I guess so," she said in a whisper. "I don't know. All I know is that he's locked up and I haven't seen him in a month. Then again, I have a track record with men, don't I? Look at Tom."

Lisa offered her an angry shake of her head then. "If that scumbag comes near you again then you have to tell me, Clara. Or you need to call the police. He scared you out of your own home to come here…not that I mind; I miss seeing you. Ever since Theresa died I've been worried for you."

Offering her a small smile, Clara nodded. "Thank you," she said again. "I know I've been distant, Lisa…but I've…a lot has happened and I just needed to talk to someone."

"And I'm always here for you to talk to," Lisa said, moving to wrap her arms around her cousin, holding onto her tightly for a few brief moments as Clara did the same, not wanting to let go of her.

It was another minute before Lisa pulled away, hands running up and down Clara's back. She offered her a slim smile before standing up and picking up the empty wine bottle.

"We could do with another one of these, I think," she said and Clara managed to quirk her lips.

"Will Erol not be home soon?" Clara wondered.

Lisa scoffed. "Doubt it," she said. "Besides, you need my time more than he does."

Wandering off with the empty bottle into the kitchen, Lisa looked back into the living room, Clara having stood up and wandered up the two steps that led onto the balcony, pulling the door open and stepping outside. It was then when Lisa pulled her cell out from her bag she had dumped on the kitchen worktop, looking at it before calling a familiar number. As soon as he answered she felt her anger grow.

"What the hell did you do to her?"

…

Alex didn't know how it had happened. One minute he was sat in a jail cell and the next he was being drafted in by a department from Homeland Security. Agent Don Self had demanded for them to find Scylla which comprised of a card that had to be placed into a device to be read. In return for Scylla, they would be free.

Sucre, Bellick, Burrows and Scofield. Alex recognised all of them, but Roland. He was the hacker who designed the device they needed to copy the cards that contained Scylla. Alex had been glad when they found the first card and retrieved the data from it. It had almost been too easy, but of course nothing ever was that simple. It turned out instead of there only being one card to find, they had six in total. Alex cursed under his breath, wondering how they were going to do it.

They had slept on it and then Self had told them that if they wanted the deal to go through then they had no other option but to get the other cards. Alex had wandered off then, his mind on something else entirely, mainly his son. He had called Lang, asking her if she would help him.

He wanted revenge on the man who had kill his boy. Lang had agreed to send through any information she could find and Alex had waited for it with bated breath as they set the next stage of their plan into motion. As the end of the day came about, Alex had found himself decoding emails to find the next cardholder before they had set out to find them. They had done that and Michael had managed to get a photo of all six cardholders.

Back at the base, Alex had gone for the documents that Lang had sent to him, hidden away at the end of the dock. Alex had picked them up and taken them back to the base, hiding himself in the corner of the warehouse before he bent over and felt the tears roll down his face.

It had taken only a few minutes before Lincoln had found him, hands on his hips as he looked to him and chewed down on his tongue, pity coming into his voice as he spoke.

"Alex," he said.

Looking up, Alex sniffed and dropped the papers down by his side, one hand wrapping around the shelf he was hiding behind. He shook his head as Lincoln continued to speak.

"I know," he whispered. "I know about your son."

"They finally got to them," Alex said in a low voice. "They got to my son and now I'm trapped here…in this warehouse…when all I want is to find the son of a bitch who did this to my son."

His voice shook as Lincoln nodded his head, able to comprehend how Alex would be feeling. He didn't know entirely, but he had a feeling that how he felt was devastated. Lincoln would be.

"I'm sorry," Lincoln managed to say to him. "I…I'll help you find him."

"Why?" Alex wondered back and Lincoln shrugged over to him as Alex continued to sob.

"Because your son didn't deserve that. He was a kid, man…an innocent kid…and I want to help," Lincoln said and he held his hand out, offering it to Alex.

Alex hesitantly stepped forwards before taking his fingertips and shaking his hand, unable to look him in the eye before releasing his grip and going back to the corner he was hiding in, his hand going around the shelf again. Lincoln remained stood where he was, wondering what he could do to help, except for finding the man who killed his son.

"Where is your ex-wife?" Lincoln wondered.

"Protective custody," Alex said. "I'm meeting her Wednesday morning, but she's better off away from me."

"She'll be safer," Lincoln agreed with that. "And Clara? You know…she might have found out who she knows in The Company? Find this bastard?"

Alex shook his head. "I don't want to drag her into this," Alex said with a shake of his head. "I left her behind to keep her safe. I can't drag her back into this."

"You know she begged to go with Michael to try to find you?" Lincoln asked of Alex. "He left her behind, but she seemed pretty determined."

Letting out a dark chuckle, Alex nodded his head. "Sounds like Clara," he said.

"Yeah," Lincoln agreed before moving off and leaving Alex to his own thoughts and sorrow.


	24. Chapter 24

Clara didn't want to go with Lisa. She would rather have spent the rest of the day sat in the apartment, hiding from the outside world like she had been doing for the past three days. But Lisa had told her that she needed to go out. She needed to get some fresh air.

Lisa had thrown a navy blue dress onto her bed, sleeves coming down to her elbows and a pair of tights along with smart black heels. Clara had looked to them once she had come out of the bathroom, her hair wet and tied in a towel as Lisa stood in the doorway, looking at her with a knowing stare as she folded her arms over her chest.

"What is this?" Clara wondered from her cousin.

"You're coming with me," she said to her. "I do this event…Eagles & Angles. It's to remember the fallen police officers in LA. It's a charity event and I think it would do you some good to attend with me."

"I don't think so," Clara responded, still sounding hesitant as she held the towel tightly around her body, her brow arching as Lisa shook her head, refusing to take no for an answer from her. "I mean, I'm not exactly in the mood."

"Well, get in the mood," Lisa urged her, "because you are coming and we are going to have a nice meal and smile and converse with people. Listen to me, Clara, I won't leave you alone, okay? I'll stay by your side."

"You must think I'm pathetic," Clara whispered. "I can't even handle myself, can I?"

"You can," Lisa said. "Look, just believe me. This will be good for you. Get dressed and I'll see you in the kitchen for breakfast. I have some meetings to go to this morning but I will pick you up this afternoon for the event."

Clara had no other option to argue as Lisa walked away and into the kitchen. Glancing down to the dress, Clara let out a deep breath before sighing and wondering if her cousin was right. Perhaps this would be a good thing for her. She didn't know and she wasn't convinced, but she went along with it.

…

Clara had done what Lisa had said. She had changed into the navy dress, standing in front of he mirror and looking at herself. It fit perfectly, a silver button on each side of it with small pockets. It flared out slightly and Clara was grateful for the sleeves. The shoes were slightly higher than Clara had anticipated, but she didn't complain, instead she practiced walking, wondering when the last time she had worn heels had been.

She had sat at the dressing table, pulling at her hair and daring to pull it into a loose bun on the back of her head so that it dangled by the nape of her neck. She finished pinning it into place before she heard Lisa come back into the apartment, standing in the doorway and looking impressed with her cousin's appearance.

They had chatted about nothing of importance on the drive to the charity event and Lisa had told Clara about how her husband had offered to take her to Paris for their next anniversary. Clara had played along, smiling and telling her how great that sounded. Lisa had even gone so far as to ask Clara if she wanted her to set her up with someone. Clara had scoffed and shaken her head.

The event was in a hotel, tables with white tablecloths lined over them. There were officers dressed in uniforms at every turn, holding onto drinks and conversing animatedly. Clara had stuck by Lisa's side as her cousin introduced her to everyone, telling them who she was and her job.

Clara had smiled politely and shaken hands, answering questions when they were asked of her. She had picked up a glass of wine from a passing tray as Lisa took a moment to herself with her cousin, sipping on her wine.

"You holding up okay?" Lisa asked of her and she nodded her head.

"Yeah," Clara responded. "I mean…I'm fine."

"Good," Lisa responded. "Listen, I had an extra place set at my table and I ordered you a chicken salad. I don't know if that's okay…"

"It's fine," Clara replied, a smile on her face as she moved to run a hand down her cousin's arm. "I'll eat whatever. I've never been picky."

"Good," Lisa said as someone behind Clara's shoulder caught her attention and she moved a hand to her shoulder, holding it softly for a second. "Listen, I'll be back in a moment…sorry…just a minute."

Nodding, Clara turned her head over her shoulder in time to see Lisa stand across from some man who was just wearing a suit. She remained on the spot where she stood, one arm folding over her waist while the other held the wine glass. She sipped on the liquid slowly, her eyes darting around the room before she looked to the entrance.

It was then when she saw them. She said nothing, her mouth gaping slightly as they caught sight of her and she shook her head. How was this even possible? They were supposed to be in prison. They were supposed to be locked up. What had changed? Clara knew that she should go over and speak to them, but she had no time.

Lisa was back by her side, commanding her attention as the three men in uniform dispersed around the room, going their own way.

"Sorry about that," Lisa informed her cousin with a smile. "Boris is an old business colleague. I'd have introduced you but he's pretty cantankerous."

"Don't worry about it," Clara said to her. "Listen, I just need to go and freshen up for a minute."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Clara nodded. "Everything is fine, you know…just need a moment. I'll be back in a minute."

Placing her wine glass down on a table, Clara moved amongst people, smiling and nodding her head politely as she went. She said nothing, instead choosing to keep silent, wondering if one of them would follow her to explain what the hell was going on. She made it to the bathroom door before she felt someone tug on her arm.

Turning around, she nodded at him before he took hold of her elbow and steered her down another corridor in between the kitchen and the function room. Clara didn't know what to do, instead all she could find herself doing was stare at him as he pulled the cap from his head and his other hand remained on her arm.

"What are you doing here?" he asked from her.

She scoffed. "I could ask you the same thing," she told him. "I thought that you were in some maximum security jail."

"Yeah, that's the cover story," Alex told her. "We're in hiding…me…and some others."

"Like Lincoln and Michael?" Clara wondered from him. "They're outside there too, aren't they?"

"Yeah," he responded to her. "We're working to bring them down still, Clara. We're working against The Company."

"Good," Clara nodded, looking back down the corridor as Alex moved to bring her gaze back to his, his hand going to her cheek as he searched her stare with an intensity she had never seen before. It took her a moment before she arched a brow. "What is it?"

"You don't…Clara…I can't tell you what we're doing here, but meet me tonight and I'll explain, okay? I'll explain everything to you."

"What do you mean?" Clara wondered.

"I mean that the woman you were speaking with a moment ago-"

"-My cousin?" Clara interrupted him. "Lisa?"

Alex's eyes widened then as he shook his head with haste. How could she have just said that to him? It made no sense. That woman was her cousin. That woman was her cousin and she worked for The Company. Clara watched on as she saw Alex's face continue to pale, contrasted to the dark uniform he was wearing.

"What do you know about Lisa?" Clara demanded.

"That she is part of The Company," Alex said and Clara shook her head with haste then as Alex saw her begin to move away from him, but he grabbed her back. "Clara, you need-"

"-No," Clara interrupted him. "I don't believe that. Lisa is my cousin. She doesn't work for The Company. She can't."

"She does," Alex continued to protest. "Listen to me, Clara, she has private security with her and I'd bet it's only a matter of time before she-"

"-We need your help." A new voice entered the fray and Clara frowned as she saw Michael approach her along with Lincoln, both of them also dressed in officer's uniform. "Clara, you-"

"-Why the hell would I help you?" Clara demanded from Michael. "You wouldn't help me when I begged for your help to find Alex. You left me behind. Both of you left me behind."

"We want you to help us because we're trying to get to the bottom of this," Alex said, knowing that he had more of a chance of getting through to her than Michael had. He took hold of her hand, but she slipped her fingers from his, clearly upset. "Clara, all we need is for you to eat with her and put this in your pocket."

Michael held up a device that Clara had never seen before. "It picks up data from the card that she keeps on her."

"What card?" Clara demanded.

"A card to Scylla," Alex said. "Listen to me, Clara…if you do this…and meet me tonight then I can explain everything. I promise you…please…we just need your help."

"She is not part of The Company," Clara said, still sounding determined.

"We'll see if you do this for us," Michael said, challenging Clara.

"Please," Alex urged her again.

"We need your help," Lincoln added on and Clara took a deep breath before snatching the device from Michael's grip and placing it into her pocket.

"So what do I do?" she demanded. "Not that it matters because she is not part of this organisation."

"Sit with her for two minutes and when I walk past and pat your shoulder, you know that we have what we need," Michael told her. "And we will pick you up tonight after the event two blocks from here on Fitz. We'll explain everything then."

"Fine," Clara huffed, hand going into her pocket as she held onto the device. "But Lisa is leaving tonight on a red eye so it shouldn't be difficult to leave her."

"Thank you," Michael nodded and Clara began to turn around and move back into the event, but Alex was walking by her side as the brothers stayed behind. Clara said nothing for a moment until she realised Alex was next to her.

"You need to go," she told him. "Listen, I have told Lisa about you…I don't want you to risk getting caught."

"Fine by me," Alex said, placing his cap back on his head before Clara shot him another glance.

"You have a lot of explaining," she told him.

"I know," he nodded in agreement before she left to head back into the event, fixing a smile back on her face as she went to sit by Lisa's side, the salad already on the table.

"Everything alright?" Lisa asked of Clara.

"Yeah, sorry," Clara said. "I just needed a few more minutes, but this looks delicious."

"Tastes it too," Lisa said before going back to conversing with the officers around the table as Clara laughed when everyone else did and spoke when she was spoken to. It felt like hours before she felt someone brush a hand over her shoulder and she relaxed, not turning around and giving away Michael's location.

Instead she remained seated before her cousin said that she had to leave for a flight.

"I can drop you off on the way?" Lisa said and Clara shook her head, finishing her wine.

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "I might go for a walk…see the city before going home. You were right. I should get out more."

Lisa seemed encouraged by that, moving to bid her goodbyes to everyone. Clara waited until she was certain that she had gone before she left the event, walking with haste down the sidewalk to make sure she wasn't being followed by anyone. She had her hands stuffed in her pockets as she let her clutch remain underneath her arm. Walking the necessary blocks, her heels clicked on the ground as she searched for any sign of the brothers. She found them after Alex climbed from the back seat, still dressed in the uniform as he motioned over to her.

Nodding, she crossed the road and moved towards the car, sliding into the backseat as Alex followed her, shutting the door. Clara pulled the device from the pocket of her dress and handed it to Michael who was sat in the front seat.

"So, what the hell is going on?" Clara wondered, shrugging her shoulders.

"We're working with Homeland Security," Lincoln answered, beginning to drive off. "They're offering us our freedom in exchange for Scylla."

"What is Scylla?" Clara continued with her questioning.

"The Company's black book," Alex responded. "It has all of their clients and secrets on it. Homeland want it so that they can bring The Company down. Anyway, Scylla can only be accessed with six cards before being placed into this machine to decode the cards."

Clara frowned. "And you think my cousin has one of the cards?" she wondered.

"Yeah," Lincoln responded.

"That's madness," Clara complained. "Lisa…she's taken me in and I told her everything about The Company. She never said anything about them or what they do. She sat and listened to me…she…she isn't part of this."

Alex could see her begin to sound worried and so he did the only thing he could think of. He moved his hand to her arm, but this time she didn't shrug him off. She remained staring out the window as she tried to take in all of the information they had given her. She was quiet, her eyes narrowed as she felt Alex staring at her.

"So how many cards do you have?"

"With this one it makes two," Michael told her.

"And the other four?" Clara continued.

"With four other people," Michael responded. "I saw them all meeting this man who I assume is in charge. We have their faces and we're slowly identifying them. Of course, if you know anyone then that might help."

"I doubt it," Clara scoffed and Alex ran his hand up and down her arm slowly.

"Clara, it would make sense," he told her. "You know someone inside of The Company. Who else could it be?"

"Anyone but Lisa," Clara protested, "because I don't want to believe that she was the one who ordered that man to torture me. I don't…it wasn't her…it couldn't have been her. It has to be anyone else but her."

"I know," Alex told her and they lapsed into silence once more until they pulled up in a port.

Clara opened the door and climbed out as the others did the same. Looking out to the water, Clara then turned around as Lincoln and Michael began to move into a warehouse. Clara arched a brow before she saw Alex come to stand by her side, looking out over the port.

"So this is where you're all hiding out?" she asked from him and he nodded.

"Yeah," he said, hands on his hips.

"Doesn't look like five star luxury," she said and Alex managed a small smile.

"It's got communal showers so I'd say it is more hostel like," he responded, drawing a laugh from her before he turned serious. "I should have been in contact with you earlier, Clara…about everything."

She shrugged. "Last I heard you were locked up in some jail, but that's clearly a lie."

"Clearly," Alex agreed. "I'd been working with Whistler, but he was shot by someone from The Company. When that happened then I went back to Colorado…to see Pam and my son…Clara…you don't…"

Moving to look to him, she saw him shaking his head. She moved to stand in front of him as she saw his eyes grow with water and he shook his head, sniffing loudly as Clara understood what had happened. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. Moving with haste, she scrambled to throw her arms around him, holding him to her as she hoped that she could offer him some form of comfort.

"What did they do?" Clara whispered into his ear, her voice low and soft as Alex moved to wrap his arms around her waist, letting her move to cradle his head against her shoulder and neck.

"They killed my boy," he sniffed out, his voice breaking as tears rolled down his cheeks. "They killed my son."

Her grip on him increased then and she held him to her, unable to let go of his body as Alex let his sobs consume him. Clara managed to push a hand into his hair, holding his locks in her fingertips as she ran her fingers through them. She didn't know how long had passed before Alex looked up to her, his hands going to her shoulders as he held them in his grip.

"I'm going to find whoever did this," Alex informed Clara.

"I know," Clara whispered to him. "I know you will. I don't know what to say, Alex…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"

"Yeah," Alex whispered. "So am I."

"This wasn't your fault," Clara reassured him, grabbing hold of him by the face as she dried his tears from his eyes. "None of this was your fault. This was The Company. They ordered for your son…for…Jesus…you didn't do this. Do you hear me? You didn't do this."

"I got involved," Alex said in a small voice. "I got involved and now my son is dead."

"And we will find whoever did that to him," Clara said to him. "Listen to me, Alex. We will find them."

Nodding at her, Alex let her move to hold him once more before they heard the door to the warehouse open. Clara turned her head over her shoulder to see Michael stood there. He was watching her with intrigue before he beckoned for them to come inside. Pulling back from her, Alex moved a hand down to her back, leading her forwards and into the warehouse.

"So who's involved in this plan?" Clara wondered.

"Burrows, Scofield, Scure…Bellick…the guard from Fox River. And there is this this new guy who is a hacker. He's a pain in the ass."

"Sounds like quite the collection," Clara mused and Alex chuckled at hearing that.

"Yeah," he said as they opened the door into the warehouse.

Alex let Clara in first as she saw Lincoln and Michael stood by a whiteboard. Moving over towards them, she could make out Sucre and, she assumed, Bellick stood in the corner near a row of plush red seats. She glanced over to them before standing in front of Michael and Lincoln, a young man with long black hair typing away on a keyboard at the table. She chucked her bag onto the table and then folded her arms over her stomach.

"We retrieved the data from her card," Michael said. "Clara, your cousin is part of The Company."

"No," Clara said with haste, shaking her head. "She can't be…Lisa…she isn't capable of doing this…of sending someone to kill a child…to hurt me…she isn't…"

"Why are you currently staying with her?" Michael wondered and Clara shrugged her shoulders before looking around nervously, not entirely wanting to discuss this with Michael with everyone listening in.

"My ex came to my house and we…well…it doesn't matter," she said, choosing to not divulge the facts. "But I am telling you, Lisa is not a bad person."

"Yeah, well, seems like she is," Lincoln responded, arms folded over his chest as Michael pointed to the board that they had been staring at.

Clara looked to it. The photos weren't that clear. They were mainly difficult to see if she had to be honest. She peered at them as Michael looked with her.

"These are the members of The Company I saw the other day," Michael told her. "Your cousin wasn't there, but does anyone else look familiar? I need you to think, Clara."

Nodding, Clara agreed, her eyes scanning over the faces before she saw him. He was stood in the middle of the circle, dressed in a suit. He hadn't changed. She recognised him straight away. Moving her hands to her mouth, she shook her head, taking a step back as Alex saw the horrified expression on her face. He moved over to her, sensing her distress as he dared to take hold of her by the shoulders, his grip light as he looked her in the eye.

"What is it, Clara?" he asked from her.

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "It can't be…it can't be him."

"Who?" Michael asked of her as she took a deep breath, her body continuously shaking as she felt her eyes begin to water. She couldn't stop herself. She didn't know how it could be true. The balding man in the photo, with his thin lips and whispy eyebrows was a man she knew.

"Him," Clara said, voice hoarse as she moved to point to the man in the photo. "Jonathan Krantz."

"How do you know him?" Michael wondered.

Clara stared at him. "He's my uncle," she whispered. "Lisa's father."

Nodding, Michael nudged the man at the computer, urging for him to begin researching. Clicking his fingers, he nodded his head as he set about working and Clara thought she was about to be ill. Her hands dropped to her hips as she moved from Alex's grip and began pacing.

"How is this possible?" Clara demanded. "How can it be him?"

"How well do you know your uncle?" Lincoln wondered and Clara shrugged.

"Not very well," she admitted. "I mean…as a kid I used to know him because Lisa and I were close, but then we grew up and I moved away. He…my mom was always close to him. I mean, she was his sister."

"Well," Michael said, struggling not to feel some pity for the woman pacing before them. "We think he might be the one in charge. He certainly stands like he is and acts like it. We're not sure."

"But if that is true," Clara said with her hands held up as she looked to Michael, "if that is true then that means he…he sent someone to my house…he…how many people has he killed? How many people has he hurt?" Clara moved to look to Alex then, her tears now openly falling down her cheeks as she met his gaze. "Your son…Alex…"

That was the final straw for her. She moved with haste, nearly tripping in her shoes as she headed for the exit. Michael and Lincoln began to move, but Alex held his hand up at them, stopping them from going anywhere as he looked between the pair of them.

"I'll get her," he said with a nod of his head. "I'll go."

Alex chased after Clara, seeing her heading outside as she seemed to move towards the waterfront. She didn't get too far as he caught up with her, his hand going to her arm as she turned around and shook her head, trying to move away from him as he watched her look around, her eyes flitting all over.

"You shouldn't be here," she told him with haste. "After what he did…my uncle…he…"

"You're not him," Alex said to her.

"But he's my uncle!" Clara snapped back. "And she's my cousin and she's been sitting there and lying to my face. She had to have known…I told her everything, Alex…everything."

"Listen to me," Alex demanded from Clara, his voice harsh as he spoke and took hold of her by the shoulders again, his grip firm as she shook her head. "Clara, come on, listen to me."

He bent down, his forehead pressing against hers as he forced her gaze to his and she tried to stop herself from shaking.

"You have nothing to do with him," he promised her. "You…what he did to you…Clara, you have nothing to feel guilty about."

"But your son," Clara whispered, her breath hot as she whispered to him. "Alex, your son…"

"I know," Alex responded, "but do not for one moment think I hold you responsible for what happened. You're nothing to do with him."

She struggled to stand upright then as she sank downwards, all of it becoming too much. Moving with her, Alex knelt by her side as he also felt his eyes become wet, his mind going back to his son. His arms wrapped around her waist, holding her to him as both of her hands went to one of his arms that was still clad in the uniform. She let her grip remain tight on him as Alex saw her curl her legs underneath her body. She continued to sob as Alex rested his chin on her forehead.

"My parents," she said in a small voice. "What did he do to them?"

Alex gulped then, unable to give her the answer that she probably wanted. Instead he could only shake his head at her, his throat dry as he did so.

"I don't know," he told her. "I don't know."

"His sister," Clara whispered. "She was his sister…my mom…dad…"

"We'll find out," Alex promised her in a whisper as he felt her head fall to his shoulder. "We'll find out and we'll make him pay…both of us…we'll make him pay."

Alex didn't know how long he was sat with Clara outside in the yard, his arms encircled around her as she continued to cry and Alex also let out his grief, his tears silent as they fell down his cheeks. It was only as he heard her begin to quieten down did he speak once more.

"You can't go back to her apartment," he told her and she nodded in agreement with that.

"She's away for a couple of days," Clara said. "I don't know how long for."

"Then we go back and get your stuff and you leave," Alex said, his voice full of determination as Clara felt herself grow with worry.

"And what if she suspects something?" Clara wondered. "I don't want to lead her to you."

"Do you have your phone?" Alex asked.

"In my bag," she nodded.

"Then toss it," Alex said. "We'll throw it on the way back so she can't trace you. Just text her and say you've had to go back to Chicago for work. I'm serious, Clara, you cannot go back to them."

"They don't want me dead." Clara reminded him.

"No, but they sent someone to cut up your back," Alex reminded her and she shuddered. "I can't let you go back there…not now…I can't lose you too."

Clara clung tighter onto his arm then as she closed her eyes and nodded her head, peering out to the water as she tried to compose herself and stop her eyes from feeling too puffy after her crying. Instead she pulled herself from Alex and got to her feet, his hands steadying her as she looked him in the eye and slipped her heels from her feet, standing on the ground.

"I want to help," she said to him.

"I thought you might want to," Alex said, not entirely sure how to feel about that as she slipped her heels onto her fingertips as they began to go back towards the warehouse and Clara knew that she had to get to the bottom of whatever was going on. There was no option now.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think! Another double update!


	25. Chapter 25

Clara was doing her best to keep calm, but she was struggling. As she moved back into the warehouse, she pulled herself together as she stood before all of them as they gathered around the table. It took a moment before she took a deep breath and dropped her hands to her hips, dropping her shoes onto the floor beside her.

"I want to help you," she said.

"We thought you might," Lincoln responded, "and as far as we're concerned you're in, but we're not the ones running this operation. That falls to Agent Self."

"Then get him on the phone and tell him I have some information that he might find helpful," Clara said and Lincoln nodded, managing a small smile in her direction before pulling his cell out and wandering to the back of the warehouse.

"So what do you know?" Michael asked and Clara went over to the whiteboard, looking to the photo.

"My uncle works in technology," Clara said. "He's in downtown L.A. and I can get you the address of the building. I remember where it is but not the address…although he might not even work there, I don't know if he's telling the truth or not."

"It's worth a shot," Michael said, unbuttoning the jacket of the uniform he was wearing. "What else do you know?"

"Just small bits," Clara said. "Lisa told me that he was seeing someone else. Her mom left when she was young and Jonathan moved onto a younger model, apparently. She never told me her name, but I can probably find that out."

"Personal link," Alex nodded his head as Clara began to move across the blackboard, seeing if she could recognise anyone else, but she was struggling. Keeping quiet, she moved a hand to hold onto her chin as Sucre piped up.

"If this man finds out that his niece is working with us, won't he…I don't know…kill us all?" Sucre worried. "No offence, you seem like a lovely woman," he pointed to Clara. "But surely having her on board is dangerous."

"Yeah," Bellick said with a nod of his head. "We're already in hot water, if we keep her around then surely that makes it boiling?"

"Seconded," Roland declared, managing to tear his eyes away from his laptop screen for a moment.

"So what do you suggest we do?" Alex asked, arms flapping by his side as he spoke, looking between the three who had protested at her being there. "Send her back to a man who, potentially, murdered her parents? Who sent someone to torture her?"

"Maybe they're right," Clara said, glancing back to Alex. "Maybe I am putting you all at risk just by being here."

"No," Alex said with haste.

"I can be more help if I went back to Lisa…tried to gain more information-"

"-Are you crazy?" Alex interrupted, his voice high pitched as he glared to her. "If this man even gets a whiff of you acting as a spy then what do you think he will do? If he killed your parents then who knows what he will do to you?"

"He hasn't killed me thus far," Clara responded.

"Because he's done enough to threaten you and scare you away," Alex replied. "Clara, this is almost suicidal. You're not cut out for going undercover-"

"-It used to be my job," Clara interrupted him, arms folding over her chest as Michael scratched the back of his head and wandered to look over Roland's shoulder as he left Clara and Alex to their argument. "I used to go undercover in organisations for a living, Alex. I can manage it."

"Those people hadn't hurt you like he has," Alex reminded her.

"I know that I can do it," Clara continued to challenge him. "If I can talk to him…maybe sneak into his office-"

"-Have you lost your mind?" Alex demanded from her, interrupting her as his cheeks tinted red and Clara fought off the urge to roll his eyes at hearing him. He moved closer to her then, coming within inches of her body. "You are not risking yourself just to get some more information."

"And you do not tell me what to do," Clara concluded and Alex bit down on his tongue before he watched her turn to Michael as Lincoln approached them again, waving his cell in his hand.

"Self said he needs to vet you, but if you check out then you're in."

"Good," Clara said. "Because I'm going undercover. I'll need a cell that he can't trace to keep you updated."

"I can get you one of those," Michael assured her. "So what else do you need?"

"Nothing," Clara replied. "I can handle the rest. Although a lift back to the apartment would be nice."

"You cannot be doing this," Alex mumbled again as Clara arched a brow and grabbed her clutch before slipping into her heels again, her hand on the edge of the table to stable herself as she nodded.

"I'm doing this," she told him as Michael found a spare phone from the box that Self had given to them. She took her old phone out and handed it to Michael in exchange. "I don't know if he can trace me. It'd be best if you destroyed it."

"With pleasure," Michael said, throwing it down onto the floor and stamping on it. "Our numbers are programmed into that phone. If you get into any trouble then you let us know straight away."

"Of course," Clara nodded.

"Listen, I'll give you a lift back," Lincoln said.

"I can do that," Alex said, grabbing a set of car keys from a bowl on the coffee table, his strides long and forceful as Clara watched him stomp around like a petulant child. "Might give me time to make her change her mind."

"Don't count on it," Clara called over her shoulder as she began to move towards the cars by the large door. Alex unlocked one and she climbed into the passenger side while he took to the driver's side.

He began to drive off as Clara sat and stared out the window. He was giving her the silent treatment. He said nothing as he came to the streets and Clara placed the phone that Michael had given her into her bag.

"You're not going to change my mind," she informed him after five minutes of driving together. "I'm doing this. I owe it to my parents…"

"I still think this is madness," Alex said with a shake of his head, indicating to turn right at a junction. "If anything happens to you, Clara…if he lays one finger on you…"

"Don't worry," Clara said, "you can be second in queue to have him. I want to be first. Besides, I've become quite good at self-defence. Tom can attest to that."

Alex wrinkled his nose at hearing that from her. "What did that asshole want?"

"His share of the house," Clara said. "He came around last week and demanded for me to move out…he…he begun to scare me a bit…dragging me by the hair-"

"-He did what?" Alex interrupted, his voice once again angry as Clara looked to him.

"Calm down," Clara urged from him. "I elbowed him in the stomach and punched him in the face. I managed to twist his arm and threaten to break it if he didn't leave."

Alex let his eyes widen as he heard that. He took a moment to himself before he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he stopped at a red light, his eyes turning to look over Clara once more as she went back to staring out of the window.

"When did you become such a badass?" he asked from her and she shrugged.

"I thought that it might be in my best interest to learn how to fight," Clara said. "Turns out it comes in handy to know how to beat people up."

"Just don't make a habit of it," Alex mumbled.

"I don't try to," Clara assured him. "Anyway, I managed to deal with him."

"And the house?"

"It will be up for sale by the end of the week," Clara nodded her head. "I want it gone anyway. I'd rather move into a smaller place and get Tom off my back. It might not be the best decision…I mean…I could report him for harassment, but it isn't worth my time. I have other things to worry about now."

Alex went silent for a while as Clara watched the scenery change out the window and she let out a small sigh as Alex pulled up two blocks from the apartment. Stopping the engine as he parked, he looked over to her as she managed a small smile in his direction, wondering what was going through his mind as he moved his hands from the steering wheel and laced them together in his lap.

"I still don't like this," he muttered.

"You don't need to like it," she informed him. "I'm doing it. Listen…if I find anything out to help you get the man who hurt your son then I'll help you. You know that, right?"

"I know," Alex whispered to her. "He's…apparently he's tall…heavy…African American…I don't have much else to go on at the minute. I'm meeting with Pam to see if she can recognise him."

"Okay," Clara said. "Look after yourself, Alex. I'll see you soon-"

"-Wait," Alex demanded from her, grabbing hold of her arm before she could push the door open.

Turning her head over her shoulder to look to him, she managed to watch him for a few moments before he shook his head at her.

"Never mind," he responded to her. "Just take care."

"Yeah," she nodded, smiling once more. "You too."

…

Alex had gone back to the warehouse in time to see Sara return. She told him how she had been followed and Alex had demanded all of the details from her. He had gone up to the kitchen near the sleeping area as she told him what she remembered about the man. Alex took notes and demanded to know where she had been. He had gone back to the bar she had visited and asked for information.

He had just come back from visiting his wife after she had called and asked to meet sooner rather than later. He had broken down and taken the gun she had given him as she promised him that he wasn't a bad person. She told him that deep down the man she married was still in there and that she knew he wasn't going to rest until he had found the monster who had murdered their son.

Alex had let himself break down in front of her and she had comforted him, despite the fact that she should feel anything but pity for him. Alex had almost wondered if he would see her again after that meeting in the diner. He had promised to let her know as soon as he had found the man.

But then Alex had gone on a wild goose chase to find him, discovering that he was staying in a motel. Alex knew the kind of man that did that. He was the kind of man who didn't want to be found. He was the kind of man who floated around.

And Alex was determined to find him.

…

Taking a deep breath, Clara wasn't sure what she was doing as she tugged at the dress she wore and looked in the mirror. She had made even more of an effort than usual, dressed in one of Lisa's black dresses with her patent heels. She had pulled her hair back into a bun as the late afternoon broke and she left the apartment, bag in her hand.

She couldn't be sure if she was being foolish or brave as she headed down to where her uncle worked. She soon found herself stood outside the building after taking a cab down there, her eyes wandering to the buildings she passed. She scoffed as soon as she saw a company called GATE, its acronym almost making her laugh loudly.

Entering the building her uncle worked in, she stood by reception and managed a polite smile, telling them that she didn't have an appointment but she was his niece. It took another few minutes before she was told to take the lift up. She did so, stepping in and calming her breathing, trying to remember all of the times she had done this before. This had to be no different. She couldn't let it be.

Coming to his secretary, she managed a smile over to Clara. "Miss Reynolds," she greeted, her voice bright and chirpy. "Jonathan is expecting you. Go on in…he's just finishing up with someone."

"Thanks," Clara said, moving over the plush carpet and towards his office, knocking and then pushing the door open, a fake smile plastered on her face as she entered the room.

"Clara," Jonathan said, standing up and looking over to her, a thin smile on his lips as he stood up from his plush chair and moved towards his niece. "This is a pleasant surprise."

"Well, I thought that I should drop by," Clara said. "Did Lisa tell you that I was here?"

"She mentioned it," he nodded to her and Clara entered the room before seeing the man he had been meeting with.

Clara tried to remain composed, her eyes wide as she longed to shake her head back and forth at seeing him. Her stomach began to churn as the man stood up, buttoning his jacket before he looked to Clara. She couldn't keep her smile on her face as he looked back to Jonathan and Clara longed to pull her cell out and call Alex as soon as possible.

"Wyatt, we will finish this off tomorrow," Jonathan said and the man only offered a nod before sweeping from the room.

Clara placed a hand to her stomach as Jonathan looked to his niece. "Everything alright, Clara?"

"Yeah," Clara said, moving through the office as Jonathan went to the mini bar on the wall, pulling out two glasses and pouring bourbon into them. She said nothing for a moment, gathering her thoughts before she spoke. "It's just that I sometimes…well…you know…I think about Tom."

"He is not worth your time, Clara," Jonathan urged her, handing her the drink as they went to staring out the window. "You should know that."

"Yeah," Clara said with a shrug, "but I was supposed to marry him. Sorry…I didn't come down here to be morbid."

"So why did you come down here?"

"Just to say hey really," Clara shrugged, not appreciating his tone as she tried to remain light and airy. "I don't know how long I'll be in town for. I've got work back in Chicago and I'm already on thin ice after my little trip to Panama."

"Yes," Jonathan drawled, "you made the news for that, along with that Agent Mahone. Is he not the same man who worked your sister's case?"

"Yeah," Clara nodded. "He…well…our relationship is pretty complex. I mean, we were seeing each other after Theresa died and then he came out and started spouting about how there was this mysterious Company who were blackmailing him to kill the convicts. I believed him after they came and threatened me…but I have got no idea who they even are. I think they must be government."

"I read about that," Jonathan nodded and Clara watched him turn his back on her as she glared at him then, only to let her eyes widen and her face soften when he looked back to her. "And Lisa told me. Clara, what you went through was horrid. I wouldn't wish that on anybody."

She scoffed. "Neither would I," she responded. "Anyway, it happened and I'm doing well now."

"Glad to hear it," Jonathan said as Clara downed her alcohol and Jonathan sipped on his. "Anyway, perhaps you might visit LA more often. I know that Lisa misses seeing you."

"Yeah," Clara said. "That would be nice."

Before he had the chance to say anything further, the secretary came in and demanded his attention, telling him there was someone outside to see him. Before Clara could insist on leaving, Jonathan told her to stay where she was and he would be back momentarily. It was then when she made her move. Rushing through the office, she looked down at his diary, pulling the cell out and taking photos of who he was meeting and when.

She opened drawers, searching for something…anything…but there was nothing in them except for boring stationery equipment. She straightened herself out and went back to the window before he had walked in.

"Clara, I do apologise, but I have business that seems to be unable to wait," he informed her and she waved a hand in his direction as another man walked in.

"No problem," she said. "Thanks for the drink and I'll see you before I leave LA, yeah?"

"Of course," he said, saying nothing further as Clara left the office, holding her bag tightly to her side.

She said nothing as she took the lift back down to reception and then walked out of the building. She continued walking for a few blocks before she hailed a cab and gave the address of the warehouse that needed what she had on her phone.

…

Alex had let him slip through his fingers. The man in the motel had proven to be useless. He knew where he had been staying and in what room, but he had checked out and gone. He had asked the motel manager to call him if someone came looking for him, but Alex had sussed that out. He had put a gun to his head and taken the phone number that the man had for him.

He had gone back to the warehouse to discuss the next plan, but he had hardly been expecting to see Clara there. She was stood with one hand on the table and her body hunched over Michael's as Lincoln sat to his other side and Sucre across from them along with Bellick.

"So this is his schedule?" Michael wondered, scrolling through the photos she had taken on her phone.

"Yeah," she said. "He had this address though and I looked it up on the way over here and it was nothing but an abandoned warehouse…much worse than your accommodation. The weird part was…look whose name is underneath it."

Michael squinted. "Gretchen?" he asked.

"She did work for The Company, didn't she?" Clara responded.

"Yeah," Michael said, "but Alex said that she'd been compromised."

"I thought she had," Alex piped up, making his presence known as everyone looked over to him and he went towards them, standing next to Clara and looking down onto the writing underneath on her cell. "But I didn't see her after things went wrong with Whistler."

"So she could be alive?" Clara wondered.

"And working for The Company?" Lincoln continued.

"When it comes to Gretchen then I wouldn't be shocked," Alex offered with a shrug before looking across to Clara. "And he didn't suspect you while you were spying on him?" he wondered from her and she shook her head.

"I don't think so," she told him. "But…can I talk to you for a minute?"

Alex nodded and followed her over towards the corner of the room, rocking back and forth on his heels as he stood across from her and she folded her arms over her chest. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled as she let her hand slice through the air as she spoke.

"Listen," she said, "there isn't an easy way to say this, but I need to tell you."

"What is it?" Alex wondered, his voice uneasy as he watched her for a moment.

"The man…the man you said who killed your son…"

"Him?" Alex wondered, pulling a photo from his pocket as Clara took one glance to it and gulped, nodding her head as Alex put it away again, knowing what she was going to say to him. "He was with him, wasn't he?"

"He was in his office before I came in," she confirmed to Alex. "I didn't know what to do. I just freaked out when I saw him and I tried to act calm, but I don't know if I managed it…I don't know if my uncle suspects anything…he has to, right? He has to know that I'm not being entirely honest with him. He's the head of The Company for goodness sake!"

"Hey," Alex said, his tone soothing in comparison to her hysterical tone. Moving out, he let his fingers wrap around her wrist, his other hand going to her cheek and holding it tenderly. "It'll be alright."

"Will it?" Clara wondered. "I could be putting you all in danger just by being here."

"Listen," Alex said, deadpanning with her, "if The General wanted us then he would know where to find us. He isn't daft."

"The General?" Clara echoed and Alex sent a shrug in her direction.

"It's what they call him."

"What a pompous ass," Clara muttered and Alex let out a deep chuckle at hearing her, his hand running down her cheek softly before he pulled back and saw her look down to the ground. "I should go. I gave you what I have…"

Alex shrugged. "You could go," he told her. "Or you could stay and order takeout with us."

Clara laughed, brow arching as she looked to him. "What?" she asked. "So you guys all sit around and eat Chinese food with each other?"

"No," Alex said, "I mean, we all sit and eat, but we usually end up arguing over something or Bellick steals most of the spring rolls," he answered and Clara let herself laugh once again as Alex squeezed her wrist and nodded. "Just stay for a while."

Shrugging, Clara nodded and agreed as Alex gave her a guided tour of the warehouse. Bellick put in the call to collect the food and left ten minutes later with Sucre. Showing Clara around, Alex felt himself relax in her presence, his mind still on his son and Wyatt, but it felt nice to have normal conversation. There was no talk of Scylla. There was no mention of The Company. It almost felt normal.

Once the food had arrived, Alex picked up the two cartons of chow Mein with chopsticks, handing one to Clara before he suggested they go outside and eat somewhere quiet. She agreed, finding herself perched on a metal pillar overlooking the harbour, Alex sat next to her.

"I thought that I had Wyatt today," Alex admitted to her as she ate. "Sara said that he had chased her and I went back to look for him. I tracked him to a motel but I was too late…I got his phone number, but I assume he had already gone to your uncle when I got to his room."

Clara nodded. "I know this might sound like a stupid question," she said, voice almost timid as she looked to Alex and he continued eating, gulping down a mouthful of noodles. "But when you find him…what do you intend to do?"

"You're right," Alex agreed, gaze distracted in the distance. "That is a stupid question."

"I'm serious," she said to him. "If you kill him then what will my uncle do? I mean, he might react-"

"-He won't know," Alex said. "Clara, you cannot dissuade me to kill him…" he dropped his chopsticks into the tub, holding it in both hands before leaning forwards on the bench they sat on. "That bastard killed my son and I'm going to kill him…I'm going to kill him if it's the last thing I do…I promise you that."

"I know," Clara said, not wanting to see him get upset before she moved her hand to grip onto his shoulder. "And Alex, I do not blame you for wanting him dead and I wouldn't stop you. No one will stop you…"

"I want to torture him," Alex said in a small voice. "I want him to feel the fear that my boy felt…the fear my wife felt…I want him to suffer…suffer and know what pain he put them through."

"I know," Clara said to him in a whisper, moving her hand off of his shoulder and back to pick up her chopstick. "Alex, I know."

Nodding, Alex struggled to find anything to say back to her. Instead he remained silent as they ate and looked out into the distance. They finished eating and Alex took the empty cartons, moving to toss them into a bin before returning, his hands gripping the metal bar as he sat back down. He took a moment to himself before he coughed, his hand covering his mouth.

"I had this wall back at home," Clara said to him, not looking at anything but the water. "I put up all these newspaper clippings and information that I could find about The Company…Whistler…Gretchen…it was crazy and slightly obsessive, but I hoped that it would mean that I could find you…after you went…"

Alex took a moment to shift uncomfortably in his chair. "You know why I went."

"I know why," Clara said. "It still doesn't mean that it didn't hurt. I thought…well…I don't know…I just thought that I could help."

"And you are doing," Alex assured her. "Besides, I think we need your help more than you know."

"Yeah, well I just need to keep this act up and maybe we'll get something even more useful," she responded, moving to stand up, stretching her limbs. "Let's go and see if they've found anything else out and then I will give you the privilege of driving me home."

Alex arched a brow as he stood too, following her back to the warehouse as she walked backwards in front of him. "The privilege?" he repeated and Clara shot him a smirk.

"I'd say that anytime you spend with me is a privilege," Clara shot back, the wry look still on her face.

She whirled around and continued to walk forwards as Alex watched the back of her head, wondering exactly what he was feeling when he saw her.


	26. Chapter 26

Clara was sat in a bar, sipping on a glass of white wine, the taste bitter on her lips as she looked to her cell. She was waiting for them to come and pick her up after she thought that she might have discovered something useful. She finished her white wine before she saw Lincoln enter the bar. Standing up, she wandered over towards him as the pair of them left together.

"I take it going back to the penthouse is out of the question?" he asked of her and Clara rolled her eyes, her bag on her arm as she followed him outside, letting him hold the door open for her.

"Lisa is back," Clara explained, "so I'm spending as much time as possible outside and away from her. Just the thought of her lying to my face…how could she do that to me?"

"I don't know," Lincoln answered truthfully, pulling the door open for her and she climbed in.

He slipped into the driver's seat before Clara dared to question him. She hadn't had a chance to speak to him since all of this had started, but a part of her was intrigued as she spoke with him. "So how are your son and Sofia?"

"Fine, I think," Lincoln said. "It was nice being a free man for a month before I was dragged back into this mess. I keep telling myself that I'll be able to go back to them once this is done."

"You will," Clara responded. "Perhaps we'll all be able to go back to normal…that is if you don't decide to kill Alex?"

"Nah," Lincoln said with a shake of his head. "He's got enough on his plate right now without adding my issues to it. Besides, something tells me he's almost relieved that you're back in his life. You know he can't stop worrying about you."

Clara glanced down as Lincoln turned a corner. She shrugged before muttering. "Yeah, well, feeling is mutual," she admitted, "but he's got enough on his plate without thinking about me or worrying."

"Yeah, but he isn't going to do that," Lincoln responded. "Besides, we're all very excited to find out what you know."

Clara scoffed. "The excitement in your voice is almost palpable," she told him.

"Well, it's difficult to get excited about risking your life," Lincoln admitted.

They both conversed about random things on the journey back to the warehouse before pulling up inside. Clara climbed from the car and took the few steps up to the large table they were all sat around. Sending a smile in Alex's direction, she looked at him for a section before glancing around the table.

"Nathaniel Edison," Clara declared, moving to stand in front of the whiteboard as Michael nodded his head and Sara grabbed hold of a file.

"One of the cardholders?" she asked, holding up the photos they had yet to identify and Clara pointed to the one on the left. "Got it," Sara waved it and went to pin it onto the board before Michael spoke, hand on his chin as he looked to the photo.

"How did you find him?" Michael wondered.

"My uncle had gone to lunch with him," Clara said, "he came to pick Lisa up before going off. I remembered seeing him in the photos so I got his name. Anyway, I found out something interesting. He's a big horse racing fan."

Sucre frowned as Bellick scoffed.

"As are millions of people in the country," Bellick said.

"Yeah, but millions of people aren't going to be at the racetrack this weekend," Clara said. "He told me he knows this guy who has told him this horse is a dead cert. I said I liked horse racing and he invited me along. So guess what?"

Michael smirked. "You think you can get the data?"

"No doubt," Clara shrugged at him. "Of course, there could be problems…especially if he doesn't bring it with him."

"He'll take it," Michael nodded. "The card holders have their card on them most of the times for safety."

"Then you just give me that device and I'll get to work," Clara nodded.

"And we'll all be there," Alex nodded, wondering if that assured her in anyway.

But it did. It assured her more than it should.

…

Standing outside in the stands, Clara clung onto the barrier in front of her as she waited for the race to begin. Nathaniel was stood to the side of her and she had seen the gang loitering around, each one of them in a different spot. Nathaniel's wife had gone into the bar, grabbing three glasses of champagne for them. Clara smiled as she handed her one.

The device in her bag was well hidden, but she only hoped that it could still pick up data from his card.

"So what gate are we looking at?" Clara asked of Nathaniel.

"Number 8," he said, staring at it. "It's a dead cert. I know it."

Clara was dressed in a short blue dress that she was constantly tugging down her legs as it rode up. She kept quiet for a few moments as Nathaniel's wife turned to look to her, pointing to the gate. She took hold of his hand as Clara turned her head over her shoulder to see if anyone was there.

"So, Nate tells me you're the niece of Jonathan," his wife said and Clara nodded, sipping on her champagne.

"Yeah," she answered. "I met your husband the other night when he was off to lunch with my uncle and cousin. He said that he liked horse racing and I told him that I liked horse racing, but I never got a chance to go all too often."

"Sounds like Nate," the woman declared, running her hand up her husband's arm as he remained too intrigued by the horse racing taking place outside. "He's always trying to get people interested in horse racing."

"Is he?" Clara wondered back. "Well, I mean it was nice of him to invite me here. I just…"

As the horse bolted from the stable, Clara heard some kind of commotion coming from inside of the building. It took her a moment before she turned her head over her shoulder, wondering what the hell was going on before she saw him. Her eyes went wide as Nathaniel's wife placed a hand on Clara's shoulder.

"You alright, honey?" she asked and Clara nodded, fixing a smile on her face before placing her champagne down on a table.

"Fine," she said. "I just thought I saw someone I knew. I'll be back in a moment."

"You're going to miss the race," his wife said, but Clara was already moving back inside, her black bag swinging against her hips as she came to the inside bar and she placed a hand over her forehead, her brow furrowing as she saw Alex with a cop.

He was in handcuffs, the cop dragging him off as Michael came to stand by Clara's side, his voice low and full of annoyance as they watched Alex go from their sight. Clara continued to let her eyes widen and her mouth gape as she spoke.

"What the hell happened?" she wondered from Michael.

"Some guy knocked into the table we were stood at," Michael informed her. "Anyway, he'd had too much to drink and he swung at Alex. Alex went to try and restrain him but ended up knocking into a cop. He's got himself arrested."

"So we need to bail him out," Clara said with a nod. "That shouldn't be too hard, should it?"

"Depends," Michael said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We'll need someone to go down to the station and find out what he's being charged for and whether or not they find out who he really is…if they do then he's on his own and going straight back to a jail cell."

"Not on my watch," Clara responded, pulling out the device from her bag and pressing it into Michael's palm before moving off.

…

Alex knew he had been stupid. He shouldn't have swung for that man. He had used his fake ID, Frank Zwan, knowing that his real name would get him nothing but a one-way ticket back to jail. He had played along with the cop behind the desk. His possessions had been confiscated from him. He had tried to persuade the desk sergeant to let him go, but it hadn't worked. He had been processed, forced to ink his fingers.

And then he had been locked up in a cell. He knew that the gang wouldn't come for him. He had nothing they wanted and there was no doubt that they wouldn't come back for him. Alex wondered if he would do the same for one of them. Of course, there was always someone who he knew he was coming to rely on. As his hands gripped the bars, he could see through the hatch to where she had walked in.

The dress on her thighs was dangerously high and the sunglasses she wore covered her face. Pulling them off, she placed them on top of her head before coming to the desk sergeant. Looking to the man at the desk, Clara dropped her hands to her hips as she noticed him, nodding her head across to him.

"I'm here for him."

He turned his head over his shoulder. "He's being charged," the man declared. "He's not being bailed for some time."

"What did he do?" Clara demanded from the man.

"Punched an officer…tried to resist arrest…" he said and Clara rolled her eyes.

"Don't you have worse people to be finding? Or wasting your time with?" she enquired and the man arched a brow at hearing her.

"Do you think that hitting an officer is not a serious offence?" he wondered from her.

Again, Clara bit her tongue, not wanting to tell them exactly what she thought.

"So what do I do?" Clara demanded from him.

"Not my issue, sweetheart," he said. "But your boyfriend isn't getting out anytime soon."

Clara shot Alex an apologetic look before sitting down on a bench, refusing to leave until she knew more. If Alex was processed and they took his prints then they would know exactly who he was. That was the part that scared Clara. She couldn't leave until she knew what was happening. She sat down as Alex watched her for a moment, sweating once more as he opened a button on his shirt.

He didn't know how long had passed before an officer came to him and offered him a deal. Apparently he had been spotted at the racetrack with Michael and they wanted him to turn him in. But Alex didn't do it. He wasn't going to turn anyone in. He didn't do that.

Clara remained on the blue seat against the wall for a while until she saw him. He entered the station and instantly she felt her blood run cold. Shaking her head back and forth, she slipped her sunglasses onto her face and stood up as the man went to the desk and asked to see Frank Zwan. Clara took one look to Alex before he bent down, hands around the bars as he saw the man who had killed his son stood at the desk.

"Someone else here to see Frank, huh?" the desk sergeant asked as Clara came to the door. But it was too late. "Seems your boyfriend has a lot of friends."

Wyatt turned around then as Clara held the door open, her hands sweating as Alex shook his head in the background, urging for her to run. She had to run and she had to get away before he got his hands on her. It was over for her now. There would be no doubting that.

"Miss Reynolds," his silky voice spoke and Clara moved then, unable to stay.

But he was busy chasing after her. Clara didn't know how long she ran for, but his footsteps were close behind her. She tried to stay ahead, but as she crossed the road she failed to move in and out of the traffic. She tripped, falling onto the floor as Wyatt came to the other side of the road, his hand moving to grip her forearm.

"Get away from me," Clara demanded.

"I don't think so," Wyatt responded, hauling her to her feet. "No doubt your uncle will want a word."

…

Alex took his phone call before he was being transferred to the courthouse. He called Michael, his voice full of pleading as he spoke to the man on the other end of the line.

"Michael," he said. "Listen to me, I'm not going to turn you in or do anything to hurt you…but Wyatt…he was here…he was at the police station and Clara was here. He saw her, Michael. He saw her and I think he knows."

"Alex, calm down," Michael demanded from him, but Alex shook his head, his cuffed hands still holding onto the phone.

"No," Alex said quickly. "Listen to me, Michael…he's…if he's got her then he's going to find out. I need you to find her. I need you to track that cell you gave her. I need you to do that and get her out…get her safe…"

"Yeah," Michael agreed, voice weak as Alex took a deep breath and nodded his head.

"And kill him," Alex said. "For my boy."

…

Clara was shocked when he didn't take her to her uncle. Instead he had taken her to a motel of some kind, tying her to a chair and stuffing a gag in her mouth to keep her quiet. She had done her best to yell out loud, begging for someone to find her, but no one came. No one came to help her. Instead she could only try to hold herself together.

"Alexander Mahone is due in court in three hours so I didn't have time to take you to the General," he informed her in a low voice. "However, I will give him a call and tell him what I have found."

He did just that, pulling his cell out and placing it to his ear. Clara listened, her breathing almost too loud for her to hear over the sound of it. All that she could do was sit and hold on tight.

"Your niece…yes…well your suspicions were correct. She was with Mahone…trying to bail him out. No."

He hung up and moved then, crouching in front of Clara before pulling the gag from her mouth.

"Scream and I make sure Alex's death is long and painful," he promised her and she bit down on her tongue. "Now, what were you doing with Alexander Mahone?"

"Nothing," Clara responded. "Well, I mean…I was trying to bail him out. We have a history and-"

"-Don't lie to me," he demanded from her. "The only reason why you would know he is in LA is if he has made contact and it seems he did just that. The story is that he is in a supermax jail. We both know that's a lie."

"Yeah, so?" Clara demanded.

"Then you know the truth," he told her. "You know what they are doing. But you see, your uncle also really wants to know what they are doing. He has his doubts about you, Miss Reynolds."

Clara deadpanned with him then. "So we can stop the games?" she wondered from him. "I know who my uncle is. I know what he did. I know what he has done to me and it sickens me."

"So what is it they are doing?" he asked from her. "I saw Sara Tancredi the other day and then Alexander Mahone today. What is it that they are doing exactly?"

Clara chuckled then, shaking her head back and forth. "Do you truly think I am going to tell you?" she wondered from him. "I'm telling you nothing."

He stood up then and moved his hands to his sleeves, pulling them up as Clara felt herself gulp loudly, her chin held high as she refused to let him get the better of her. Instead she took a deep breath and wondered what was going to happen as he moved his hands to crack his knuckles.

"Your uncle told me not to do too much damage if you refused to talk," he said and looked her in the eye. "So I'd suggest you start talking. You have an hour before I need to leave for court."

Clara continued to stare at him, her face stoic. "Then you'd best make the most of that hour."

…

Alex didn't know what was running through his mind. They had broken him out of the courthouse and Wyatt had been there. As they drove away he had threatened Alex. But all Alex could do was think about Clara. Michael said that they had tracked her to a motel and Lincoln had found her. She was alone as Wyatt had gone to the courthouse.

It was a long drive back to the warehouse and Alex felt his blood run cold as he rushed into the building in time to see her. Lincoln had her laid down on one of the red sofas. He looked over to the group before yelling.

"Sara!" he roared her name and she moved with haste over towards them, seeing Clara laid on the sofa.

She knelt down on the floor as Lincoln spoke.

"I went in and she was like this," Lincoln said, standing up and motioning down to her.

"Clara," Sara said, voice loud and clear. "Can you hear me? Clara?"

"What's wrong with her?" Alex demanded, voice high pitched as he looked down to her.

She was sweating, muttering in incomprehensible sentences as Sara moved a hand to check her pulse, holding her wrist in between her fingers before she shook her head with haste, letting her wrist go as she continued to whisper in a small voice, making no sense whatsoever.

"He's injected her with something," Sara observed. "The mark on her wrist is fresh and matches that of a syringe. I don't know what…confusion…talkativeness…it could be anything…flunitrazepam, maybe?"

"How long will it last?" Alex was the one to ask.

"I don't know," Sara said. "We need to keep her here and rested until it passes. She might suffer vomiting so someone needs to stay awake with her."

"I'll do it," Alex volunteered.

"Okay," Sara said. "I'll stay with you. Listen…bring her to the boat…the bed in there will be better."

Nodding, Alex bent down to pick Clara up, but she tried to push him from her. Her efforts were weak and Alex managed to restrain her with the help of Lincoln, tossing her into his arms before moving with haste towards the boat. Climbing into it behind Sara, he gently placed Clara on the bed at the end of it, hiding her from the rest of the warehouse.

"She has a high pulse," Sara said. "Whatever he gave her I think he was trying to disorientate her, judging by the babbling and confusion."

Alex's brow furrowed. "Why would he want to confuse her?"

"Because sometimes when people are confused they tell the truth," Sara responded. "We'll only know what he found out when she wakes up, and even then she might not remember what she told him. I wouldn't blame her. She's not exactly with it."

"Typically though," Alex said, hand flat in front of him, "how long should this last?"

"I'd say twelve hours," Sara said. "Hopefully by the middle of the night she'll be coherent enough to tell us what the hell happened to her."

"I hope so," Alex responded before moving to sit on the floor by the bed near her as Sara took a perch on a stool, hands clasped in front of her.

They both lapsed into silence then, avoiding each other's gaze. Instead, Alex was too concerned with Clara, watching her as she fell silent and finally let sleep take hold of her. She closed her eyes, only occasionally whispering in her sleep. Alex had closed his eyes then, only opening them as he heard Sara move, her footsteps quiet as she came to stand next to Clara. She pressed her fingers to her wrist once more and then felt her forehead.

"What's the verdict, doc?" Alex muttered, feeling sleepy but too scared to let it take over him in case something happened.

"She's cooled down and her pulse has lowered," Sara said. "She might still feel ill though."

"Do you want me to take her to my bunk so you can get some sleep?"

Sara shook her head, standing up, her hands holding her thighs as she made the motion. She gave Alex a nod. "I'll go and sleep on the sofas. Just stay with her and let me know if anything changes," she told him.

"Thanks, Sara," Alex said, his voice full of emotion as Sara offered him a nod and then slipped from the boat.

Alex moved then, sitting on the side of the bed as he saw her peel her eyes open. She looked up to him, her hand reaching out as she tried to find his. Alex took hold of her fingers in his grip, holding them gently as he moved his hand to brush over her forehead, pushing her hair from her face.

"How you feeling?" Alex asked from her.

"Like I'm floating," she whispered and Alex knew she was still not entirely back to normal. "How did you find me?"

"I saw him in the police station and I called Michael…asked him to track you and find you."

Clara opened her mouth, feeling how dry it was as she began to shiver, a feeling of cold taking over her. Alex moved then, pulling the duvet from the bottom of the bed up and covering her as she hummed in contentment before closing her eyes and speaking.

"He said he would kill you," she muttered.

"The guys…they broke me out before he could do anything," Alex informed her. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

Clara nodded, rolling onto her side, her eyes still closed as she kept hold of Alex's hand and he watched her, his free hand going to stroke her hair soothingly as he heard her whisper, knowing full well she would not speak the words she said if she were conscious and coherent.

"He told me you'd abandon me," she whispered, "but I knew you wouldn't…you kissed me…you actually care about me."

Closing his eyes, Alex went back to that moment, fleetingly allowing himself to recall it. He could still imagine how her lips felt on his and he knew that it didn't feel wrong. He thought that it might. He felt as though he was betraying Pam. He felt as though she would feel wronged. But she didn't know. She didn't know and he knew that their marriage had been over for a long time.

"And I like you," Clara mumbled and Alex arched a brow.

"Oh, really?" he asked from her, trying not to sound too amused by her comments, but he was finding it difficult not to be, despite the circumstances. He knew he should have other thoughts, but he quite enjoyed the thought of Clara telling him the truth.

"Yeah," Clara mumbled. "Like a lot…a lot."

"Well, we can talk about that when you've slept," Alex promised her.

Nodding, she yawned, her eyes still shut tightly. "I didn't tell him anything," she said again. "I don't think I did."

"It's alright," he promised her. "We'll worry about that later. Just get some rest."

She did as she was told then as Alex let her sleep and he slipped back down to sit on the floor, his hand still holding onto hers as he watched her go back to sleep, her breathing becoming more shallow and her mouth slightly open. Alex closed his eyes, thinking that it might be safe to fall asleep for a while.

…

Alex was shaken awake, the feeling of Michael's hand on his shoulder as he opened his eyes and startled slightly. He looked up to Michael who sent a small nod in Alex's direction.

"I'd ask how she's been doing, but I think you've been sleeping," Michael said and Alex stretched his neck, moving to his feet as he placed his hands onto his hips and nodded.

"She woke up for a few minutes and said that she didn't tell him anything, but I don't know if she was telling the truth…I mean…she was out of it," Alex said, turning to look at her for a moment. "But I believe her. She's pretty resilient."

"Good," Michael said. "Because there is no chance she can go back to the General or her cousin now. She has to stay with us."

"I know," Alex said.

"We're planning how to get the next card," Michael said, "but we'd understand if you wanted to stay here with her."

"Yeah," Alex said with a nod. "Just that Sara said she could be ill and I don't want her to be alone in case she's-"

"-I'm fine," a voice interrupted and both of them glanced to her as she held the duvet to her chin. "Go with him and plan. I'll come and help in a minute."

"Clara, no one is expecting you to help right now," Michael told her. "Just stay there and get some sleep. We'll fill you in when you're feeling up to it…but…I have to say thank you…for getting those two cards. We don't know what we would have done without you."

Clara scoffed. "You'd have managed," she muttered. "I bet you've been planning things since you were in the womb."

Michael arched an amused brow as Alex let out a small laugh and nodded his head in agreement. Michael climbed out from the boat then while Alex took a moment to peer back to Clara, his hand going to her shoulder.

"I'll be back in a bit," he promised her.

"Hmm," she grunted at him and he left her alone, feeling his cell in his pocket and knowing that there was a call he had to make once they had finished their plans.


	27. Chapter 27

Clara had fallen back to sleep, but that sleep was interrupted as soon as she heard a loud voice booming from outside. Groaning lowly, Clara sat up, hand going to her head as she felt a sense of dizziness sweep over her. She managed to stand, her legs slightly shaky as she blinked profusely, accustoming herself to the light once she was outside the boat.

Folding her arms over her chest, she tentatively walked forwards and towards the meeting area. She recognised everyone except for one man who was stood at the front, his arms in front of him as he snapped at the people around the table. He had curly blonde hair on the top of his head, his chin square and his face wrinkled up as he continued to snap. His voice was harsh and far too loud.

Dressed in a brown shirt and tie, the man turned his glance over to Clara as she saw Alex sat on the table, a grey zip up jacket on his body on top of his grey top.

"Who is this?" he demanded.

Michael rubbed his forehead for a moment. "Clara Reynolds, the woman I told you about."

Alex instantly turned his head over his shoulder to see her, moving to his feet as she shot him a nod, telling him that she was fine in a silent manner as he then backed off, letting her move towards the man who she assumed was running this entire operation. Holding her hand out, she remained polite as he took hold of it, shaking it more forcefully than she had thought he might.

"Pleasure," Clara nodded at him. "I take it you're Agent Self."

"Correct," he nodded. "So you're our key to the General, huh?"

Clara shook her head. "Not anymore," she said and he looked perturbed. "He knows that I was working against him. He sent this guy…Wyatt…he was torturing me to get information, but I didn't say anything, not that I remember anyway. He drugged me pretty well."

Self seemed to freeze then, dropping her hand as he glanced to her, his eyes wide. "Wyatt?" he asked her and then glanced to Alex. "Can I talk to the pair of you outside?"

Clara had no idea what was going on, but she nodded, moving behind Self as Alex fell into step besides her, his hands stuffed up and in his pockets as they wandered to the outside of the warehouse. They stood still as Self moved around them, his face tinted pink before he spoke.

"That Wyatt came to me," he informed them. "Last night, he came to me and…you know what? I've dealt with hundreds of investigations before, but I've never had a hit man come after me before."

"What did he want?" Alex asked.

"What did he want?" Self asked, his voice continuing to grow in a mixture of panic and anger as they stood by the edge of the dock and Self moved his hand through the air frantically. "He didn't discuss that, but I'd say it was to scare me off. If he can find me once then how do I know that he can't find me again?"

Alex placed a hand on his hips and moved from one foot to the other as the sun beat down on them. Clara shrugged her shoulders as she answered him, her voice truthful and honest.

"You won't know that he can't find you again," she told him, her voice honest. "If my uncle is who we think he is then he's probably hired the best hit man in the entire States."

Self scoffed at hearing her, shaking his head back and forth. "That's not entirely comforting."

"It isn't meant to be," Alex told him.

"So what do I do?" Self wondered. "You were an agent once before."

Alex let out a hysterical chuckle then; although Clara suspected that he didn't find anything particularly entertaining. Moving forwards, Alex looked down for a second before glowering at Self.

"Really?" Alex asked, still perturbed. "So you would have left me in a jail cell to rot and now you want my help?"

"I couldn't get you out," Self said. "Besides, getting arrested was your fault."

Alex looked away from him then as Self began to pace, a silence brewing between the two of them as they let their thoughts consume them. Clara didn't know how long it was before they next spoke and she looked to Alex.

"I've tracked down killers…rapists…but none of them got to me, not like an engineer from Fox River. And he did that because he stopped running and he became aggressive. He was the one to bring the game to me."

Alex nodded as Self looked worried. That wasn't entirely the answer he wanted, but it was the one he got. "That's what you do," Alex told him.

Self wandered off then, clearly thinking about what he had just been told as Clara watched him go and climb into a car. She let out a low whistle as he drove off and Alex remained silent for a few moments before glancing out to the water.

"He'll either kill him or Self will get lucky and I'll get him first," Alex said.

"Don't say things like that," Clara urged him, moving to hit him on the arm gently. "If he kills Self then you end up back in jail. Is that what you want?"

"Not really," Alex said. "Guess I'll just have to kill him first. Anyway, how you feeling? I checked up on you earlier but you were still sleeping. Sara's just popped out but you should go back inside and wait-"

"-Slow down," Clara interrupted, holding her hands up to stop him for continuously talking. "Take a breath for a moment and let me tell you that I'm fine. I feel fine…well…just a bit fragile and cold, but I blame this dress. I should really find some more clothes."

"I'm sure Sara can lend you some of hers," Alex responded in the process of pulling his jacket off his arms.

"I'll be fine," she told him once she understood his intention.

Rolling his eyes, he moved to help her into it, pulling it onto her arms as he stood behind her and she almost shuddered at the feeling of his fingers brushing along her bare skin as he helped her into it. Of course she refrained herself, choosing to blush instead before she dared to move her hands up to his as they sat on her shoulders. Keeping them there, she kept her gaze away from him.

"Thank you," she said and he shrugged.

"Just a jacket," he told her.

"Not just for the jacket," she responded in a small voice. "I do remember some things from last night…not much…but I remember you telling me that you called Michael to send Lincoln to find me."

"It was my fault you were in that police station in the first place," Alex responded with a scoff. "If I hadn't been stupid enough to get arrested then you wouldn't have needed to come. Seems like you're always trying to bail me out of things and I always land you in the crap."

She turned around then, taking her hands from his as she looked him in the eye. "Is that what you think?"

He wrinkled his forehead, looking at her with a face of disbelief. "Come on, Clara," he urged her. "Those scars on your back are because I burdened you with all of this…and then yesterday he got you because you came after me-"

"-Stop blaming yourself," Clara interrupted, "or having a pity party or whatever this," she motioned to him, "is. I am old enough to make my own decisions, Alex. I was the one who chose to come to New Mexico. I was the one who followed you to Panama. I was the one who went to find you in a jail cell. You don't ask for all of this to happen, just like I don't. We're just two people who seem to be unlucky enough to fall into it."

The pair of them went quiet before Clara heard Lincoln call for them from the doorway. Holding a finger up, she indicated that she would be a minute as she turned her gaze back to Alex, managing a small nod for him as he watched her for a second, a hand going to tousle his hair.

"We need to go in," she said. "So just stop blaming yourself and help me get the truth from my uncle, yeah?"

"Yeah," he managed to agree and followed her back inside, noting how the jacket was far too big on her.

Once in, everyone was sat on the red seats and Sara instantly stood up from her spot. Moving over to Clara, she took hold of her gently by the arm, leading her towards the sofa.

"How do you feel?" she asked from her, instantly going into her doctor mode.

"Fine," Clara said, "just a bit uneasy."

"Understandable," Sara said and Clara became aware that everyone was listening in as Sara continued to talk. "You're going to have to stay here and rest for the next twenty four hours to make sure it's all left your system."

"Which is a good job because we need to split up," Michael said. "As you all know, Howard Sucredi will be on a flight to Vegas in the next few hours, meaning that he is taking his card with him. Self wants the card asap so some of us are going to have to go to Vegas."

"I'll stay here," Alex piped up, leaning against a fence.

"Good," Michael said, "because while you were out there Bellick got a call. T-Bag has been spotted and the woman who spotted him wants two grand. So…Linc…you take Roland, Sara, Sucre to Vegas and we will stay and deal with T-Bag."

Clara furrowed her brow, piping up for a moment. "Why do we need Bagwell?"

"He has Whistler's bird book," Michael said. "We think it has information on The Company inside of it."

"Got ya," Clara nodded as the team dispersed and Bellick moved over to look to Michael and Alex as they began speaking.

Sara moved a hand to Clara's shoulder, holding onto it as she shot her a warning look. "I mean it," she told her. "Nothing for twenty four hours."

Clara nodded. "Thanks, Sara…for everything."

She managed a small smile, nodding her head back before going off as Michael went to catch up with her. Moving to her feet, Clara stood in front of Alex as she spoke to him.

"So where are we meeting this woman?" she wondered from him.

"We?" he asked from her. "Didn't Sara just demand for you to rest?"

"And stay in this warehouse all alone?" Clara wondered, looking around. "After yesterday I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that, Alex. I'd rather just come with you. I'll sit in the car and be quiet, like a good little child." Her tone was sarcastic as Alex chuckled at hearing her, shrugging his shoulders before seeing that the Vegas crew were all heading to the cars.

"Just wait until Sara has gone before following."

"Got it."

…

Sitting in the back of the car, Clara leant forwards in between the two seats. She still wore her dress from yesterday but had zipped Alex's jacket up to her neck, hands stuffed in her pockets as she saw Alex check on his watch.

"What is taking Bellick so long?" Alex wondered.

"He should have what we need," Michael agreed.

"How do you know you can trust this woman who phoned and asked to meet him?" Clara enquired.

"We can't," Michael replied to her. "Problem is we can't exactly trust anyone."

It was then when Michael's cell rang and he answered after a moment. "How much more?" he demanded before hanging up a moment later.

Alex felt his teeth grind together as Michael opened the car door. "He wants us to go and talk to her," he declared and Alex nodded, opening the door before looking behind to Clara, shooting her a warning look as she sunk back in her seat.

"Staying," she said, her voice a mutter as the two men wandered off.

Leaning back in the seat, Clara kept her hands in the pockets of the jacket as she closed her eyes for a moment, a fleeting sense of tiredness taking over her. She looked around, but she couldn't see anything as she tried to stay awake. There was not much to see except for the other cars they had parked near.

She didn't know how long had passed before she heard the car door open again and Alex's panting breath entered the cab. Leaning forwards as he shut the door, he turned around to see her perching on the edge of the seat, her hands holding onto either side of the chair as she looked confused.

"What happened?" she asked from him.

"T-Bag set us up," Alex declared. "He had a gun and was telling us to get in the van. Can you untie me?"

He held his hands up and Clara moved her fingers to tug at the material that was bound around his wrists. Tugging it off, she tossed it to the side before Alex started the engine, grateful that Michael had left the keys in the ignition. Clara moved forwards, climbing to the front seat and slipping into it, one hand on the dashboard as she saw Alex move his hand into his jean pocket and pull out his cell.

Tossing it onto her lap, he slipped the car into drive before moving off. "Call Self," he urged her. "Tell him I need a location on Michael."

"Yeah," Clara nodded.

Doing as she was told, she called Self who told her to meet him in his building's underground car park. She relayed the message back to Alex and he nodded, driving through the streets as fast as possible while Clara quizzed him.

"If he wanted to kill Michael then he would have done," she mused. "Do you think he has something up his sleeve?"

"Yeah," Alex nodded. "He's a psychopath, but he has a plan. Like you said, if he wanted to kill Michael then he would have just done it without any hesitation. But he doesn't want Michael dead so long as he gets what he wants and Michael remains useful."

"So we need to be quick," Clara confirmed.

"Yeah," Alex responded.

They both remained tense as they pulled into the car park and Alex parked in a spot furthest from the door that Self was loitering by. He came over to them, a device in his fingertips before he opened the door to the car and Alex looked to it. He took hold of the device.

"So what does he want?" Self wondered.

"No idea," Alex admitted, "but I need to get to this location and find Michael before he does something to him."

"Do you think he will?"

"Only if Michael gives him what he wants," Alex shrugged to Self.

"I'll come with you."

"No," Alex responded. "I can handle this. You stay here and stick to the plan."

Passing the device over to Clara, she looked down at it and began to help navigate the way that they had to go. It didn't take too long before they pulled up outside the building. Forcing herself from the car, Clara stepped onto the sidewalk before Alex was in front of her, hands on her shoulders to keep her still.

"Stay here," he told her.

"No chance," she responded. "Come on…I can help."

"You could get shot," Alex responded.

"Maybe," Clara said, "but we're in this together, remember? So stop trying to protect me and let me help for once."

He had no choice to argue as she slipped from his grip, holding the device as she followed it towards a stairwell. Climbing the steps, the device kept bleeping, indicating that they were getting closer to the location. Tentatively moving onto a landing, Clara walked down it, close to the wall while Alex followed her.

Only when they came to the door did Clara see it was open. Alex moved his hand into his back pocket, pulling out a gun before raising it. She let him go first then as she walked behind him, both of them remaining silent. But it soon became clear that no one was there. They had gone.

Lowering the gun, Alex groaned lowly before noticing a bird made of paper on the floor. Michael's trademark. Picking it up, he looked to it before unfolding it.

"Gate," he said.

"What's that?" Clara asked, still looking around but finding nothing.

Alex shrugged. "Michael left a clue but all it says is Gate."

It was then when Clara noticed the box on the desk and it triggered something in her memory. Frowning, she picked the empty box up and saw a logo on the side. It said Gate on it. Turning it around to show Alex, she nodded her head.

"I've seen this before," Clara told him. "GATE…Greatness Achieved Through Excellence…I saw it when I went to see my uncle because I laughed at it in my head and how daft it sounded. But why would Michael want us to go there?"

"Where did you meet your uncle?"

"The building he works in, why?"

"And is it next to GATE?" he wondered from her.

"Yeah," she told him. "But…why…do you think he is hiding Scylla in GATE or something?"

"Or something," Alex confirmed to her. "I think the way to Scylla might be through GATE. Why else would Whistler have written that down? What interest would that company have to him?"

"None judging by the stupid adverts," Clara responded. "So what do we do? We head down there?"

"Seems like it's the only lead we have," he responded and Clara was already leaving the apartment.

"Let's go then," she said.

…

"We need a plan," Clara said as they took the elevator up to GATE. "They're not just going to let us in the office if we have no reason to be there."

"Leave it to me," Alex said.

Stepping out of the lift, Clara followed Alex and she was almost shocked as she felt him wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her close as he led her towards the reception. She said nothing for a moment, instead watching Alex fix his smile onto his face.

"Hi," he said to the receptionist. "I'm sorry to bother you, but me and my wife were talking with this salesman just outside…and we couldn't catch his name, but he had this smart grey suit…moustache…"

"Oh, Cole!" the woman exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically before turning her head over her shoulder and seeing that his office was free. "He must have just gone to the bathroom. He was in his office a moment ago."

"Do you mind we just go and wait for him?" Alex asked, putting on the charm offensive as Clara did her best not to gag at hearing him. Instead she let her lips quirk upward.

"Of course not," she said. "Just the office in the corner. Did you want a drink?"

"We're good," Clara finally said. "Thanks."

Alex kept up the pretence, smiling at people as they greeted them on their way to the office, his arm still around Clara as they entered the room and saw a door to a cupboard.

"What do you think?" Clara wondered.

"I think we go through here," Alex responded, pulling the door open and letting her go as she moved behind him, making sure no one was watching them.

"Would you look at that," she mumbled, the sight of a ladder leading down into, what looked like, tunnels, enough to make her eyes widen. Alex took the first step and she climbed down behind him, feeling his hands on her waist to steady her on the final step.

She tried not to let his touch have the usual effect on her, but it was proving to be difficult. Instead she stayed behind him as he pulled his gun out, voices entering their ears. Moving closer towards them, they saw Michael with Bagwell. T-Bag had his back to them and it was then when Clara heard Michael's words.

"I think now I'm going to lock you in that room and let the police have you," Michael said and T-Bag chuckled.

"And how you going to do that?" he wondered.

But before he had a chance to say anything else, Michael looked over his shoulder and Bagwell followed his gaze. It was then when Alex punched him in the face, sending him flying to the floor before Michael helped to pick him up with Alex, both of them pushing him into a room behind a metal gate, using a screw to lock it.

Bagwell moved to the wire, pulling on it as Alex walked away, handing Michael the paper he had left them.

"Clara decoded your message," he said.

"Yeah," she replied. "You know my uncle works right next door, right?"

"I do now," Michael said with a nod. "Thanks…both of you."

"No problem," Alex said. "We should call Self and get this guy locked up."

"Agreed," Clara mumbled.

The three of them began to leave as Alex called Self to tell him where Bagwell was. The man locked up continued to yell, demanding to be released. Clara looked over her shoulder, his screams still loud enough to be heard by the ladder back up. She climbed up in front of Alex before the three of them left the office, Alex's hand on the small of her back as they went, relieved to be outside.

"I should get her out of here," Alex said.

"I'll wait for Self," Michael replied. "That tunnel down there leads to the building next door, which now I have learnt is the building that Krantz works in. That means that Scylla is down there. The bird book was a map…blueprints that lead us straight to Scylla. I just need to decode some of it and we need to set to work."

"How are you going to do that?" Clara wondered as Alex continued to look around nervously, hoping no one spotted them in the courtyard.

"We need access at all times to GATE," Michael said.

Alex shrugged. "Can't you convince Self that we're IRS and need to go in there? With what they're running it wouldn't be too difficult."

"Probably not," Michael said. "Anyway, you disappear-"

"-Too late," Clara responded, her gaze moving over Michael's shoulder as she saw her.

She was watching her back and Clara felt her hands ball into fists before she moved from behind Michael and marched over to her, each step she took determined. Alex chased after her, moving to grab hold of her by the elbow and stop her, but it wasn't working.

"Did you know?" Clara snapped as she came closer. "Did you know what he did?"

Saying nothing, Lisa held a hand up to her bodyguards, urging for them to leave her be as she moved towards Clara. The glare on her face was intense and Alex knew that they had to go before they were compromised. But Clara was not going anywhere. She remained firmly planted, her gaze accusatory as she watched Lisa.

"Did you know?" she asked, this time a little bit louder.

"No," Lisa said, spitting out the word and looking down to the ground. "I didn't know until that night-"

"-But you work for them," Clara interrupted her. "You work for The Company and you never bothered to tell me. You sat there and kept that from me…lied to me…"

"Because I didn't understand, Clara," Lisa said. "The Company…I'm not…I didn't know what he did…who he sent."

"Am I supposed to believe that?" Clara wondered from her. "How can I believe you, Lisa?"

"Because you're my cousin," she responded. "I would never hurt you."

"No," she said, "but your father let someone hurt me. Do you know what else he did? He sent someone to torture me again yesterday…pump me full of drugs…that's your father, Lisa. Your father who probably killed my parents too."

Shaking her head, Lisa looked away. "No."

"Yes," Clara responded. "And you're too blind to see it…what he did …what he does…come on, Lisa."

"I didn't know," was all she could offer, at least having the decency to look ashamed as Alex kept his grip on Clara's arm.

"We need to go," Alex whispered into her ear. "Clara…we need to get moving."

"Yeah," Clara nodded, continuing to glare at her cousin.

"Please," Lisa said, "Clara, please come with me and I can look after you."

"No," Clara said with a shake of her head. "You know what he did to me and you still went to meet him now, didn't you? You lied to me…lied to my face…I can never trust you again, Lisa."

"Clara, please," Lisa pleaded, but Clara was already turning away, letting Alex rest his hand in the small of her back as he pushed her forwards.

"You alright?" Alex asked from her.

"Surprisingly," she said, "yes."

…

He found her sat outside later on, basking in the evening son. She was perched on the edge of some crates, still wearing his jacket but having changed into a pair of jeans and shirt that she picked up on the way back to the building. Alex had changed into a striped blue shirt, his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he sat down on the crate next to her.

"I remember what I said last night," Clara admitted to him in a low voice. "When I was out of it in the boat…and you were there…"

"Really?" Alex wondered from her and she rolled her eyes.

"Are you going to make this difficult for me to talk about or easy?" she wondered from him.

He chuckled. "Depends," he responded. "I mean, I've had my suspicions for a long time that you cared more than you let on."

She scoffed. "Just so you remember," she told him, "it was you who kissed me in Panama, not the other way round. I mean, we haven't brought that up since it happened."

"And you want to discuss it now?" Alex asked and Clara shrugged.

"I don't know," she said to him. "I'm not really in the mood to get into a deep conversation about feelings right now. I mean…I don't really know how I feel and it's not like this is a normal scenario. All I know is that…I care, okay? I care a lot and that's all you're going to get right now."

Alex nodded, but before he could speak she had continued.

"And it's not like I want you to say the same thing out of a sense of obligation," she told him. "I know we've been through a lot together but I don't want you to think that means you owe me…or that we should be this way…"

He shook his head. "It's not that," he promised her. "I genuinely do care."

"So if you saw me in a bar then you'd feel the same?"

"Oh no," Alex said, his tone light. "I've seen you drink a full bottle of wine in less than an hour. If I saw you in a bar then I'd think that you were an alcoholic."

Clara laughed before leaning her head back. "Oh shut up," she said, still chuckling as Alex let himself laugh along with her.

"Perhaps we could discuss it once this is done?" Alex suggested.

"Deal," Clara agreed. "I can live with that."


	28. Chapter 28

Clara had to admit that Sara had a very good disapproving face. If Sara and Michael ever had children then they would fear for their life if they ever did wrong. Clara had been sat awake late at night, the Vegas crew arriving back in the SUV. Lincoln was the first one out, followed by Sara who looked to Clara.

She was resting against Alex's side as he sat up, his arm over the back of the sofa. Clara had her head on his shoulder as her legs stretched out on the red material. Alex's glasses were perched on his nose as he tried not to focus on Clara's weight, her back pressed to his side. He was finding that rather difficult to do, but he was doing his best.

She had come to sit next to him, not bothering to ask if she could rest against his side. Instead she had just done it and began to read the folder on her uncle. Alex had asked her if she wanted to be doing that, but she had nodded her head, telling him that she could handle it. He had nodded then and gone back to his own folders.

Sara had glowered at Clara as soon as she saw her peer over in her direction. "I thought that I told you to take things steady?" she asked of Clara.

"Did Michael grass on me?" Clara wondered.

"Guilty," Michael said, sipping on his coffee and peering at them over the rim of it.

"How do you feel now?" Sara wondered.

"Fine," she said, "just tired."

"And we have bigger things to worry about," Lincoln said, turning to glower at Roland as the kid shrugged his shoulders and looked down, his expression sheepish as Michael stepped towards his brother.

"What happened?" Michael worried.

"That machine Roland built helped him to win at every slot machine in Vegas," Sucre said, glaring at Roland as he walked around him and then wandered up towards the kitchen.

"And it got confiscated," Lincoln concluded.

"You're kidding me," Bellick said. "You stupid asshole."

"I know!" Roland snapped, holding his hands up. "I know I messed up, okay? I can build another one…we'll be fine…we'll get the card."

"Did you get the one back in Vegas?" Michael demanded, exhaustion taking hold of him as he pinched bridge of his nose and looked down, moving his hand over his forehead once more.

"Yeah," Lincoln said. "So we've only got one left to find…one from the General."

"You say that like it is simple," Alex declared with a scoff, shutting the folder he had been reading before Clara sat up straight and let him move from the sofa as she looked back to the folder in her fingertips. "I mean, the man works in a fortress, has a private bodyguard around him all of the time."

"There's only one person who could get close to him," Clara said and they all turned to look at her.

While at one time there would have been only Alex who instantly said no to that plan, this time there were multiple voices, including Michael, Lincoln and Sara. Lincoln was the one to speak first however.

"There is no chance he would let you leave with his card," Lincoln said. "We both know that he's going to be keeping it on him at all times. The only chance we can get it is if we force it from him."

"And how do we do that?" Alex wondered back. "Getting to him is going to be near impossible."

"We think on it," Michael said. "Look, it's been a long day for all of us and it's late. We should get some rest."

Everyone muttered their agreements with that and dispersed upstairs. Alex remained stood where he was, not heading up towards bed as Clara looked to the sofa, knowing that would be her place. There were no spare bunks upstairs and Sara had the boat. Not that Clara minded the sofa. It happened to be rather plush and comfortable.

"You going to be alright?" Alex asked of her.

"Yeah," she said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just that the couch isn't all that comfy, is it?"

"It's not bad," Clara said. "I mean, I could do with a pillow and a blanket, but I shouldn't be picky."

"You can have one of mine," Alex told her, "and there's a spare blanket upstairs."

Clara was about to protest, but she didn't get a chance. He was already going upstairs, taking two stairs at a time. He came back down with a pillow under his arm and a blanket in his fingertips. Passing them over to her, she chucked them down, thanking Alex before bidding him goodnight.

She laid down and tugged the blanket over her, but she knew that she wasn't going to get much sleep. Instead she found herself moving outside of the warehouse, the moonlight streaming down as she heard the faint noise of traffic in the distance. She said nothing, sitting down on her usual crate and peering out over the water, the moonlight glimmering over it.

It took a moment before she let out a breath and considered her meeting with Lisa earlier. Perhaps her cousin had been telling the truth and she didn't know what had happened to her. Of course, she knew now and she still worked for The Company. But that didn't mean that she knew everything Lisa did. Then again, Lisa didn't do anything except for say how sorry she was.

It was too much for Clara, bracing her hands against her thighs, she leant forwards and knew that was it. If she thought that she had been alone before then she knew she was alone now. Her family weren't who she thought they were. They had taken her mom and dad from her too. They had taken them and now Clara had nothing.

She had no one except for Alex. That was her only saving grace right now. Alex was the only person she could count on and who she actually cared for. He was the only person and she didn't know how she felt about it. She almost didn't notice him behind her except for his footsteps.

"I thought that you'd gone to bed?" she said when he had perched on the crate above hers, his legs dangling down beside her.

"I went to the bathroom and when I walked past I noticed you had gone. I thought I'd make sure you were alright," he explained and Clara nodded.

"I just struggle to sleep," she informed him. "And I was thinking about Lisa…and how…I don't know."

"Not who you thought she was, huh?" Alex said.

"Not one little bit," Clara said, "and even though I…I knew she worked for them…a part of me thought that she might not know about what they did to me, but I don't know…she says she didn't know but she didn't even bother to condone what he did, not really. She just looked shocked."

"Maybe she did know?"

"I don't want to believe that," Clara responded and Alex shrugged his shoulders as Clara pulled herself to sit on the same crate as he was, her shoulder bumping against his as she closed her eyes and Alex saw her yawn.

"You're tired," he said.

"Yeah, but if I go to sleep I'll either wake up screaming the building down or shock myself awake," she said to him.

"You're still having nightmares?" he wondered from her.

"They got worse," she informed him, "well, they were always bad, but since New Mexico and the torture, they've been worse. I try not to sleep…but at home no one can hear me."

"So what?" Alex wondered. "You're just not going to sleep?"

"I'll try to," Clara responded. "You're so pushy, you know?"

He chuckled. "I've heard," he said to her in a low voice. "I think it's a trait I won't be able to get rid of now."

She chuckled at hearing that before she said nothing further and closed her eyes. He moved then, daring to wrap his arm over her shoulders as she moved closer to him, her head going to rest on his shoulder as she shut her eyes.

"I just want revenge on him," Clara said, "for everything that he has done."

"We'll get it," Alex said to her. "Both of us will have it. Wyatt…the General…we'll see them fall. We both know that we can do it and once we do then all of this will be over."

"But he still killed my parents," Clara whispered, "just like he killed your son. He took the people we love and we…we can't get them back."

"I can't think like that," Alex whispered. "If I think like that then I won't be able to keep going because every time I think of never seeing my son again…never seeing his face…it ruins me. It makes me just want to cry. All I can concentrate on is avenging him."

"I know," Clara said in a whisper. "You…losing a child…it's impossible."

Alex shook his head. "You don't understand until it happens to you."

"It did."

Her statement took him off guard. He gulped once, looking down to her as he kept his fingers on her shoulder tightly. She said nothing for a second and Alex didn't push her, even though she could sense that he was intrigued to know what she was talking about. Closing her eyes, she shrugged her shoulders before speaking, her voice a whisper.

"Tom and I had been dating a year," she whispered, "when I found out that I was pregnant. I carried for six months and…it was a miscarriage. It was a lot of years ago, but it was the only time I was pregnant. It was an accident really. Still…when we found out we started planning. We had all these ideas…a nursery…making sure everything was baby proof…foolish really."

She took a moment to gather her thoughts.

"I would have made a terrible mom," Clara whispered. "And Tom…Christ, can you imagine him as a father? I don't want to. I don't want to think about it. Would he have been different if we had the baby? Would it have worked?"

"You'd have left him," Alex said confidently, "and you would have made a brilliant mother."

"Alex, I can barely look after myself," Clara responded. "But I sometimes think about how I would have loved that baby beyond belief. I would have done anything…just like you would do for your son."

"I'm sorry," Alex said to her.

"So am I," Clara replied, "about a lot of things."

"Yeah," Alex muttered, moving to rest his chin on top of her head. "We all are, but I never knew about you…"

"Not many people did," Clara said. "I don't exactly go around broadcasting it. I try not to think of it too much, but I'll never forget. That baby was a part of me…and I went through a stage where I thought that it was my fault, even though the doctors told me it was natural and there was nothing I could do."

"They were right," he responded to her. "These things happen."

"That still doesn't stop you from blaming yourself, does it?" Clara wondered from me. "I mean, look at everything we've been through. You keep blaming yourself for what has happened to me and I blame myself for putting you in this spot by going to look for Shales. We all blame ourselves for something, even if it isn't our fault."

Alex could concur with that. Instead all he could do was offer her silent support, moving his other arm across his body, his fingers going to hold onto hers. He heard her let out a low chuckle before she turned to glance up towards him.

"Still want to be involved with a screw up like me?" she asked of him.

"You're not a screw up," Alex responded, "but…yeah…I'm still interested."

Clara nodded. "Thank you," she whispered. "Right now you're the only thing close to a…well…you're the only thing I've got. Sorry if that sounds intense."

"It makes sense," Alex promised her. "I just don't know you have kept going…after everything…"

"What's the alternative?" Clara wondered of him. "I just quit on everything? I go back to Chicago and I sit in that new apartment of mine and just exist? Go to work and pretend none of this has happened?"

Alex shrugged. "Doesn't sound too bad," Alex replied and she let out a low chuckle.

"Perhaps not," she mused, "but I can't do that. Too much has happened to turn back around now and I owe it to my parents. Just like you owe it to your son."

"Yeah," Alex agreed with that. They were quiet for a few moments before he spoke again. "Come on, we should go back in before it gets too cold and you catch a cold."

"Always so concerned over me, Mr. Mahone," Clara teased him, trying to lighten the tone before she lost her mind. Uncurling herself from his grip, she stood up and hopped down off the crates before she felt Alex take hold of her hand, looking down to her.

"Of course, Miss. Reynolds," he responded. "What would I do without your dry wit and sense of humour?"

"Oh the boredom," she said, her voice melodramatic as she swung their hands and Alex lifted it into the air, moving her arm over her body as he draped his arm over her shoulders. She felt content for a moment as they stepped back into the warehouse and went silent.

"I'll see you in the morning then," she whispered to him as they came to the stairs up to the bunks, but Alex shook his head.

"I'm staying down here," Alex told her. "In case you wake up in the middle of the night."

"Seriously," Clara said, "I'll be fine. Go to bed."

"No can do," Alex said, releasing her from his grip and going to sit on one of the sofas as Clara took the other one. "Besides, I can be as stubborn as you when I need to be."

"I don't doubt it," Clara mumbled, grabbing the blanket and dragging it over her body.

Alex went to lay on his back, arms folded over his chest as he closed his eyes and tried to let sleep come over him.

…

Clara awoke the following morning, unsure of what had happened as her neck ached and she struggled to sit up. It took a moment before she realised that she wasn't on a pillow, but her head was on Alex's shoulder while he sat up, silently reading with his glasses on his face.

"How long have I been out?" Clara mumbled. "And why are you here?"

"Good morning to you too," Alex muttered. "You woke up around two a.m., shouting for someone to get off you. I tried to wake you and it didn't work…well…it did a bit. I shook you but you were groggy."

"What did I do?" Clara wondered.

"Nothing really," Alex said. "I just sat with you until you fell back asleep."

"And stayed?" she asked.

"Well…it's not all that bad," Alex mumbled to her. "Anyway, everyone is upstairs having breakfast. I think they might have a plan about how to get the final card from Krantz."

"We should go and join," Clara muttered, even though she felt as though she could use another hour's sleep.

Moving to her feet, she placed her arms over her head, stretching and yawning before picking the blanket up, draping it over her shoulders as she felt the chill of the early morning. Alex rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and placed the folder he had been reading under his arm as they climbed the steps.

"Morning," Clara mumbled to the group as they joined them around the table.

"What did we miss?" Alex asked, his question more direct.

"Lincoln came up with a plan," Michael said. "We ram a car into the general's limo and we get the card. An ambulance will be nearby to pick him up and inject him with morphine. He's not going to remember anything come morning. We'll get away with the card and then that's it. We're done."

"And how dangerous is this?" Clara was the one to ask. "If he travels with a bodyguard then they're not going to let you near him."

"That's why we need to monitor how he gets to work," Sucre declared.

"So we could do with your help," Bellick said and all eyes turned to her. "You know where he lives, right?"

"Yeah," Clara said. "I can give you the address. What are you going to do? Tail him to work?"

"For a couple of days," Michael said, "in case he decides to vary the route. We need to know exactly where he is going to be and when he is going to be there."

"Well, I can tell you that he is a man of method," Clara said, holding the blanket closer to her as she huddled into it. "My Uncle…he…Krantz…he doesn't do things randomly. He never has done. He plans everything to within an inch of its life. I don't think he'll alter his route to work, although if he knows you're after him then he might try to act more spontaneous."

"And that is why we observe him," Michael said, grabbing his forehead for a moment before continuing. "We need Self to help us get the ambulance. We'll find a car from the scrapyard. Bellick and Sucre are going to tail him this morning."

"I'll write down the address," Clara said. "Do you have a pen and paper?"

"Here," Sara said, sliding over her notebook and pen. Clara scribbled down the address, tearing the page out and handing it across to Bellick.

"Right, Linc and I are going to head out and meet Self to find an ambulance. Sucre is going to pick up a car from the scrapyard for us to crash into after he's followed the General."

"What do you want me to do?" Alex wondered.

"We need you to wait outside where he works and let us know if he comes and goes throughout the day," Michael said.

"I'll go with you then," Clara said.

"You sure that's a good idea?" Alex wondered of her.

"If we're just lurking in the distance then I'll be fine," Clara said. "Besides, it isn't just me who he wants but all of you. This is bigger than me."

…

"He's not going to come out that building," Clara said as they sat in the SUV across the street from the building The Company operated from. "We've got him on the ropes. I'd imagine he's planning how to get rid of us."

"But what if he finds out we're after Scylla?" Alex wondered. "I mean, if we do somehow manage to steal his card then he's going to know it was us, right? What if he tries to move Scylla?"

"I know," Clara admitted to him. "The only thing we can hope for is that he decides not to do anything or doesn't know the card is gone until we've cracked in."

"Considering they haven't started work at GATE I'd say we need to get moving," Alex muttered. "Anyway, I think it is safe to report back that Krantz isn't going anywhere during the day, unless he has some meetings we don't know about tomorrow."

"I didn't look that far ahead in his diary when I did my digging," Clara mumbled. "Listen, what I told you last night…about the miscarriage…I…I haven't told anyone else, really. I know I can trust you to keep it quiet, but I don't want it to change anything between us. I don't want you to look at me differently or…whatever…I know how people can be. Ever since Theresa died everyone at work treaded on eggshells around me, even months after she had gone. It…it just got infuriating to be around."

Nodding at her, Alex looked away from the building for a second. She searched his gaze before whispering.

"I think that's why I like you," she admitted, "you don't look at me with pity…treat me like I'm different…weak…"

"Clara, you're anything but weak," Alex assured her. "After everything you've gone through, I'd say you're one of the strongest person I know. I mean…you're still here and going. You've got nothing to worry about, to me you're just…just you."

She gave him a grateful smile then. "Thanks," she said.

"Anytime," he responded, going back to looking out the window, but he move his hand into the gap between them and took hold of her hand, holding onto it as Clara let her fingers wrap inside of his.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a while, just staring at the building and wondering if anything was going to happen. There was nothing. It was all quiet and peaceful. Clara leaned back in her seat, still clasping onto Alex's hand before she saw her leave the building. Rolling her eyes, Clara tried not to look too disgusted at the sight of her.

"Do you think that they're up to something?" Clara wondered. "I mean, Lisa has her suitcase with her again. I wonder where she's going to this time."

"I don't know," Alex admitted to her. "All I know is that we can't trust any of them. Your cousin though…do you think she could be the weak link? I mean; I know she's never going to be your favourite person, but yesterday when you were yelling at her she did look genuinely upset."

Clara shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "It's not like I trust her."

"Not that I blame you," Alex responded.

"Besides, she would never turn against her dad, no matter how much of a bastard he is," Alex let himself chuckle at hearing that, nodding his head before Clara checked the clock. They had been there for hours.

"Nothing is going to happen," she said. "He'll leave work in an hour and go home the usual way. We should head back to the base and tell the others."

"Yeah," Alex agreed with that.

…

Looking to the ambulance, Clara walked past it, impressed that they had actually managed to get their hands on one. Alex was already a few paces in front, telling the others that nothing had happened and that the plan should be ready to go the following day. Michael had nodded while Clara had looked off into the distance, noticing Roland in the corner on his laptop. But he wasn't working. Instead he had his hands holding his head, his greasy hair between his fingertips.

"What's going on with him?" Clara whispered to Bellick who shrugged

"No idea," he responded. "He's probably just feeling guilty about yesterday, as he should. The idiot…if he had pulled a stunt like that before we had the other cards then I reckon Linc would have killed him."

Clara scoffed. "I get the feeling there might have been a queue."

Bellick chuckled at that, nodding his head before Clara went over to the table Alex was stood at, peering over the plans. Running a hand up his arm, she held onto him as he turned his head over her shoulder to look at her.

"You're going to have to stay here tomorrow," Alex informed her. "If Krantz gets a whiff of you being there then I don't know what will happen."

"Fine," Clara agreed, not bothering to argue.

Besides, she didn't know how much use she could be. Alex was shocked at the lack of protest, but he said nothing about, instead picking up a bottle of water on the table and passing it to her. She took a sip of the drink before looking down to the paper beneath them.

"What is that?" Clara wondered, pointing down to the words on the paper. Peering at them, she arched a brow before leaning around Alex to look down at something. "Sustainable farming in Ethiopia," she whispered, peering into the file with the information. "This is a project my mom worked on."

"Doing what?" Alex asked.

"I'm not too sure," Clara admitted. "I was just a teenager and she was always working in the lab…something about genetically modified crops. She was a scientist…well…really she was more interested in geography too, in particular climate change and how to adapt to it in countries that struggled."

"Was she working on it before she died?" Alex asked her.

"I think so," Clara nodded. "Why?"

"Because this is a project that was linked to a member of The Company," Alex said and Clara's brow furrowed as she heard him say that. "We don't know if the project has anything to do with The Company, but Self is looking into it all."

"So…what?" she wondered from him. "What is it that The Company does?"

"We're not sure," Alex mumbled. "But I get the feeling its bigger than just setting up government scandals and influencing decisions here in the States."

"It could be global?" Clara wondered.

"Looks like it." He whispered.

…

Clara sat on the sofa the following day, the warehouse empty except for her and Roland. The tech genius was sat upstairs on his bunk and Clara had left him to it, not wanting to get involved in his business. That morning had been full of arguments after they had been informed that Gretchen was on the team because she had some pages from the bird book.

Alex hadn't been keen on that and Clara could understand why. He was slowly losing faith that they were losing Wyatt. He got the feeling that the man was slipping away and he didn't know how to cope with that. Clara had promised him that they would find him before giving his shoulder a squeeze and watching the team leave.

She didn't know how long had passed before she sighed, bored of her own company. She walked up the steps towards the kitchen where Roland was on the bunk. Looking to him, she offered him a small smile before she saw what he was doing. Her eyebrows furrowed and the young man looked over to her.

"What are you doing?" she asked from him.

He was cutting the tag off of his ankle, severing it with a knife. Clara watched him pack his laptop away before she moved closer to him, sensing that something wasn't quite right.

"What are you doing?" she repeated, her voice harsh and demanding.

"Listen, lady," he said, holding his bag up and then slinging it over his shoulder. "You might enjoy staying here with all this danger but I don't. I've had enough…I'm out of here."

"Where do you intend on going?" Clara demanded from him. "You're abandoning them?"

"They'll get the last card and they won't need me," he said. "And then what? I end up going back to jail? No…I don't think so. I'm going to get out of here and flee…get the money and run."

"What money?" Clara snapped at him.

It took a moment for him to look away, but she said nothing as she let her mouth gape. Shaking her head back and forth, she moved closer to him. "Are you selling them out?" she asked of him. "Who to?"

"Someone who wants them," he muttered.

"I don't think so," Clara snapped at him. "You're going nowhere."

"Says who?" he asked. "You? Please, I did my research on you. Clara Reynolds, a tragic orphan whose fiancé left her less than a year after her sister was murdered. And then there's this little relationship you have with Mahone. You know he's psychotic, right?"

"Shut your mouth," Clara demanded from him.

"Why?" he wondered from her. "I'm out of here…gone…"

"Fine," Clara said. "Go and meet whoever you're meeting, but if you think I won't be following then you're gravely mistaken, because I'm not letting you get away."

"Don't," he warned from her. "Don't follow me."

"Why?" Clara wondered. "Guilty conscience?"

"No," he said, but the look in his eye said something different. "Just stay away and you won't get hurt…I won't get hurt-"

"-And Michael and Lincoln?" Clara wondered. "And Sucre…Bellick…Sara…what about them? They get killed, for what? A million? Is that what they offered you?"

"You wouldn't understand," he mumbled.

"Damn straight I don't understand," she snarled at him. "Besides, what did you give this guy? No one meets someone unless they have solid evidence they are who they say are. I know this stuff, or did your research not tell you that I was an investigative journalist?"

"Just back off!" Roland snarled at her.

"Or what?" she asked. "Where are you meeting this guy, Roland?"

"No," he said a shake of his head.

"So you want me to follow you?" she asked from him. "Because I will. I don't trust you. You've proven to be nothing but a snake, Roland. You…turning them in…"

"Why would you understand? You're not a convict," he declared. "Just stay here. I'm going…I'm leaving and I suggest you stay here."

"I don't think so," Clara said. "You see, we're in this together now, Roland, and I am coming with you."

But Roland had other ideas. Running off, Clara rolled her eyes as she followed him, trying to keep up and managing to do it with ease. Following him through the alleyways in between the warehouse buildings, Clara let her feet hit the ground with haste as she kept on following him, but then she saw the car and the man inside of it.

Coming to an abrupt stop, she felt his hand wrap around her arm before she collided with him. Smirking wryly, he looked down to her as she tried to push herself from him, but his grip with tight.

"She followed me, man," Roland said, pointing to Clara. "She followed me here."

"Good," Wyatt declared. "Now just give me the location of the brothers."

Shaking his head, Roland pulled at the straps to his backpack. "I want the money first."

Wyatt moved to pull a gun from his jacket and Clara acted with haste then, remembering her self-defence. She moved her elbow until it hit Wyatt's stomach and he loosened his grip from her. Turning around, she placed her hands onto his shoulders before bringing her knee up and into his groin, her hand balling into a fist as she punched him in the face and he doubled over, clutching his face, but the gun was still in his grip.

"Don't move!" he roared at Clara before she could wrestle the gun from him.

Standing up tall, Wyatt was still in agony, but he couldn't let it show as he kept the gun trained on Clara and Roland.

"If you tell him where they are then I will kill you myself," Clara snarled at him, "because he's going to do it anyway."

"No," Roland responded. "We had a deal."

"So where's the money?" Clara demanded, glaring at Wyatt.

"Clever, Miss Reynolds," he said before shooting Roland in the knee.

The man yelled in pain and fell to the floor, clutching onto his knee as Clara looked down to him and he continued to scream, the pain on his face clear. Clara said nothing further, keeping her lips pursed before Wyatt shook his head.

"Why would I need you? I have her to tell me where the brothers are."

"As if I would tell you," Clara scoffed. "You may as well shoot me now."

"We both know that I have other methods," Wyatt said, and then he shot again, Clara wincing at the sound it made. She closed her eyes for a moment before hearing Roland's screams. He soon quietened down, whimpering on the ground.

Keeping her lips tightly closed, she looked on as Wyatt trained the gun on her.

"Follow me, Miss Reynolds," he demanded from her.

"No can do," Clara responded. "Shoot me. I am going nowhere with you."

"Wrong answer," Wyatt growled and moved forwards, but Clara slipped underneath his arm, knowing exactly who had been standing behind him.

Wyatt was struck by Alex with a metal pole as she moved behind him, grateful for his sudden appearance along with Michael and Lincoln. Clara watched on as Wyatt fell to the floor, Alex over him and punching him repeatedly in the face. Clara watched on, but she didn't bother to restrain him. Instead she left that to Lincoln. He pulled Alex from Wyatt, but Alex was so full of rage that all he could focus on was punching at Wyatt.

"You can have him when we're done," Lincoln promised Alex, grabbing him once again before heading over to Wyatt and picking him up.

Clara went to Alex, seeing how he had turned away, unable to look at Wyatt as his hands went to hold onto his head. She said nothing for a moment before she spoke to Alex.

"He's not going anywhere," Clara promised him.

"No, he's not," Alex said, his voice low and dangerous as Clara took a deep breath.

"How did you find us anyway?" Clara wondered as Lincoln passed them with Wyatt and Michael went to Roland, unable to leave him despite the fact he was clearly dying. But Clara felt nothing for him. He was going to abandon them all. He was going to see them killed.

"Michael suspected Roland was betraying us so he put a tracking chip in his laptop," Alex managed to say. "I didn't think you would be here."

"I found him cutting his tag off and followed him," she said. "He was going to rat you all out."

"Yeah," Alex mumbled, gaze set on Wyatt.

"Come on," Clara muttered. "Let's walk back to the warehouse…and then you can have him. You know that."

...

A/N: Four chapters in a day! If you're reading then do let me know what you think and hopefully another update soon!


	29. Chapter 29

Clara knew better than to get in Alex's way that day. She understood what he was going through because she had felt exactly the same thing with Theresa. She had wanted to kill Shales and a part of her knew she should have done it, but Alex was right, she didn't have a killing bone in her body.

Instead Wyatt was tied to a chair in the storage room and Lincoln had done his best to get him to talk, but it wasn't working. They needed Wyatt to make a call and tell the General that he had done his job. They were all sat around the table and Clara had listened about how they had failed to get the card from the General.

Wyatt had found them before going off to meet with Roland. Clara had listened with intent, wondering exactly what she should do. She felt useless at that moment in time. She knew no amount of words would help Alex or make him any less anxious to get his hands on Wyatt. Instead she suspected that any words she said would be useless.

Self had walked in, demanding to know if they had made any progress with Wyatt. They had told him that they hadn't. It was then when Sara took the lead and decided to talk to him. Clara didn't bother looking around, not wanting to look to Wyatt. Instead she would have preferred to see Alex kill him and get it done with.

"Look," Michael said, "instead of focusing on Wyatt, we need to look at these blueprints."

"So what do they mean?" Clara wondered.

"Well," Michael said, "assuming that these blueprints are right, but there is no way of knowing if they really are, we need to follow this basement all the way to this walkway, but then at the end of the walkway we have something blocking it. It's got an X on it so it might be a wall or something. On the other side of the wall, I don't know what there is. Gretchen has those pages."

"So why is she even part of this?" Sucre asked, remaining sat in the chair. "What game is she playing?"

"No idea," Self replied, "but as soon as we find out then we ditch her. She's not part of this."

"Do you think she won't know?" Clara wondered. "If you're playing her then she'll find out and do something to ruin whatever plans you have. You know she isn't stupid."

"Clara's right," Lincoln agreed, "so we take care of her when we need to and have minimum contact with her."

"Agreed," Bellick nodded.

"Right," Self said, "so you all need to head on down to GATE. Take tools with you and get started at work. I'll stay here and get Wyatt to talk if Sara can't."

"Do you think you can?" Clara wondered, forcing her gaze to peer over to him, even though she felt slightly ill just at the sight of him. Saying nothing for a few moments, Clara took a second before shrugging her shoulders.

"He'll talk or I'll torture him."

"Do you think that works on a man like him?" Michael was the one to ask. "He's a hit man and he won't talk. He'll try to manipulate Sara to let him go. He knows he has no chance of leaving here alive, not with Mahone staring at him and watching him."

"Alex isn't going to touch him until we have what we need," Don responded confidently. "So you all pack up and move out. I'll stay here and Miss Reynolds can keep an eye on Alex."

Clara was about to say that she didn't need to keep an eye on Alex, but she held her tongue and shrugged her shoulders, settling down in a chair at the table as the four men moved out. Sara was still in the cage, talking to him, but Clara suspected that whatever she was going to say wouldn't work.

Alex was still leant against the wall, one hand holding the pipe next to him while the other continued to run over his face, the sweat dripping down his forehead as he pulled at the cuffs on the long top he wore. Clara didn't know how long had passed before he moved, striding over towards the cage.

Jumping into action, she moved with haste, standing in front of him as Don stood up, looking over to Alex. Clara struggled to restrain him for a second as he grabbed her arm and moved her aside. But she was quick, moving with agility until she was in front of him again, a hand on his chest as Don came to stand next to her.

"I'll cuff you to the chair if I have to," Don told him, his voice not threatening but almost pleading.

Alex looked away, the anguish on his face easy to read as Clara kept her hand against his chest, her other hand going to grip his arm as Don spoke.

"Listen," he said, "I need him alive…I'm trying to do something and I need you to back off."

"You ever lost a kid?" Alex demanded.

"Yeah," Don said. "I did. My wife was pregnant and…she had complications…the doctor messed up and they…they didn't make it…so I understand, Alex. I understand."

Clara saw Don's eyes grow wet as her grip on Alex loosened and he stopped trying to move forwards, instead letting out deep breaths as he struggled to get himself under control. Clara didn't know what more she could do except for stand in front of him as he whispered, his voice full of wonder and a lack of understanding.

"What would you do?" Alex asked, sounding broken and defeated. "If that man…the man who killed your kid was right there?"

"I don't know," Don answered honestly. "But you have my word, Alex. When the time is right then I won't stand in your way."

Alex nodded, still panting. "And I won't let you," he declared and Don nodded, moving away from him while Clara remained stood where she was.

Alex didn't look to her as he turned away, hands moving through his hair as Clara watched him go back to the corner he had been standing in previously. Hands on her hips, she went to sit back down, taking the seat next to Self before she spoke.

"I'm sorry," she managed to whisper.

"It was a year ago now," Self whispered, looking at his laptop.

"Still hurts, regardless of time," Clara told him and he looked to her inquisitively. "I was six months gone when I miscarried," was all she offered him.

"Sorry to hear that."

"Thanks," Clara said, sniffing and then motioning to the screen. "So what are you working on?"

"You'll see when Sara comes out with the recording device I gave her," Self said. "We put words together to make a sentence in Wyatt's voice. We call the General with what we want him to say and that should get him off of our backs. Hopefully he won't send anyone else to kill us."

"Wouldn't that be the dream?" Clara asked and Self let out a soft chuckle.

"I've gotta tell you," Self said, "I don't think I've ever heard about anyone as unlucky as you. I looked into you before I let you join."

"There's always someone worse off," Clara responded. "You've just go to remember that."

Sara walked over then, dropping the device onto the table before placing her hands onto her hips. "He didn't say anything useful, but we should have enough for what you want," Sara said and Self plugged the device into the laptop and set to work while Clara watched him and Sara hovered over his shoulder.

"This should work then," she said.

"Should do," Self said. "I saw a partner of mine do it once when an enemy combatant wasn't talking. We got what we needed though. Just like we will do now."

"Is that ambulance still out back?"

The question came from Alex who had stepped forwards, hands together as he looked around, eyes flitting everywhere. Don nodded.

"Yeah," he said and Alex stalked off.

They all watched him go before Clara shook her head. She wasn't going to ask what Alex had planned. She suspected if he wanted medical equipment from an ambulance then it wasn't going to be anything pleasant. Biting down on her lip, she looked down to the table while Self continued to work and a part of Sara wondered if they should be doing this.

"So you're going to let him kill him?" Sara demanded while Alex was out of earshot.

"Yeah," Self said, pulling the recording device out. "Done. We have what we need."

"Surely you should lock him up," Sara said and Self shook his head.

"I promised Alex," Self said. "So we're not getting into this. The man killed his son…what would we do if someone killed our kid? We're in no position to judge."

"You're not going to stop him?" Sara asked from Clara and she stood up, not having to answer to Sara.

Instead she walked away, not wanting to be in that warehouse. She wanted to get out and leave Alex to it. Picking up a leather jacket, she slipped her arms into it and moved past the cars, bumping into Alex on the way as he held a bag in his fingertips. He moved a hand to her arm as she nodded.

"I know," was all that she could say to him, unsure of what she knew, but she felt like she understood why he was going to do what he was going to do.

"Don't wander off too far," he urged of her and then swept past.

She turned her head over her shoulder to watch him go before she left the warehouse and wandered outside, unsure of where she was going. All she knew was that she had to get away for a little bit, or until Alex had done what needed to be done.

…

Coming to GATE, Clara took a look at the building, wondering if she should go up there and help. She suspected she might be of use, but she wasn't too sure. She didn't get that far. Instead she saw a familiar looking woman enter The Company building, but sneaking by reception and heading in the opposite direction to the elevators up.

"Gretchen," Clara mumbled, wondering what the hell was going on.

Moving around the courtyard, Clara came to a café and digging into her bag she found enough change for a latte. Taking it outside, she sat down and shrugged out of her leather jacket. She saw her cousin leave the building after a moment and she placed her sunglasses onto her eyes before she picked out her cell.

She had transferred Lisa's number to her new cell, not knowing if it might come in handy. Calling her, she saw Lisa take her cell out of her bag and answer it.

"Hello?"

"It's me," Clara said and she saw Lisa look down for a moment. "Come to the café in the courtyard, but don't bring security. I have a question I need to ask you."

"Where are you?"

"Café. Now." Clara said and hung up, depositing the phone back in her bag as she saw Lisa tell her security guards to go back inside.

Moving over to the café, Clara watched on as her cousin looked around for her, her eyes finally landing on her after a minute. She took the seat opposite Clara before resting her hands in her lap. Picking her mug up, Clara sipped on the latte before looking over to Lisa.

"A woman with black hair called Gretchen just went into the building." Clara said and Lisa scoffed, looking away.

"You're here to talk about my father's whore?" Lisa demanded and Clara's eyes widened at hearing that, her hands moving to take her sunglasses from her face and placed them on the top of her head.

"She's his mistress?"

"Yeah," Lisa said, looking to the side and pulling at the black blazer she wore. "The one he had a kid with."

"You never said he had a kid with her."

"I like to pretend that she doesn't exist," Lisa said. "How would you feel if you knew your father had an affair with someone the same age as you?"

"That would require my father to be alive," Clara sniped back and Lisa almost looked apologetic as she took a deep breath and looked back over to her cousin. "So what is she doing in there?"

"Why are you so interested?" Lisa wondered from her.

"That is none of your business," Clara replied and Lisa rolled her eyes.

"I know, okay?" she said. "Your friends made a move to try to steal my father's card. What are you all trying to do, Clara?"

"Again," Clara drawled, "none of your business."

"No, I think it is," Lisa hissed, "because my father has a feeling that you're trying to steal something of his and that something…you know…and I know you know. You're not stupid, Clara. I only want to know why you're doing this."

"Because I want him to suffer," Clara answered, her voice honest. "Because he took my parents from me and I want him to pay for that."

"He didn't-"

"-Don't try to defend him," Clara said, holding a hand up to silence her. "It isn't going to do anything to appease me. Do you get that, Lisa? I mean, have you even asked him? Have you bothered to ask him if it is true?"

"Stop it."

"I'll take that as a no," Clara said, quickly downing her latte and placing the cup on the mosaic table before adjusting her sunglasses on her eyes. "If you had any sense then you'd stay away, Lisa. I don't know what The Company do…what you all want…but I know it isn't good. It isn't right and you know that."

"We help people-"

"-No," Clara interrupted her. "You don't. You ruin lives. You've ruined my life…Alex's…"

"You know what you just said?" Lisa asked of her cousin, "about staying away if you had any sense? I'd say the same to you about Alexander Mahone. I looked into his file, Clara, and asked my father. I know what he did…I know what you did with him…to Shales."

"Do not," Clara hissed, fist banging on the table, "talk to me about that bastard."

"You pretend to be innocent, but you were going to kill him," Lisa said.

"Because he killed my sister. He killed Theresa," Clara said and let out a loud laugh as she stood up, shaking her head back and forth as she placed her bag on her shoulder. "And I should have killed him."

"But you didn't," Lisa said, standing up. "Mahone did, despite being an FBI Agent. He's crooked…he's killed…"

"Because of The Company," Clara said as Lisa stood and looked her in the eye. "Because your bastard of a father gave him no other choice. Alexander Mahone might have done bad things, but he is not a bad man. And the fact that you think you can stand there and lecture me is comical. You're as bent as everyone else."

"Because we're all just fakes," Lisa concluded.

"Yeah…I see that about you now," Clara said and moved off, not bothering to wait for any kind of response as she left.

…

The sun had set by the time Clara had gone back to the warehouse. The mood was solemn as everyone was silent, sat around the table. Looking at them, she wondered what the hell had happened before Michael spoke, his voice low and croaky.

"Bellick's gone," he said.

"Gone?" Clara asked, brow arched.

"Dead," Sucre said, his voice breaking.

Clara felt something hit her then. It was the realisation that none of them were safe. This mission was dangerous and losing Bellick attested to that. Sitting down in an empty chair, she placed her hands on the surface of the table as everyone remained silent. Closing her eyes for a second, she listened to Lincoln speak in a low voice.

"There was a water pipe," he explained and Clara didn't noticed Alex appear in the corner of the room. "We had another pipe to go through it so we could get to Scylla. The…wood holding it slipped and he climbed into the pipe to get it across. The water came…and he wouldn't climb out."

"What about his body?" Sara wondered.

"Self is on it," Lincoln responded.

Saying nothing further, Clara struggled to come to grips with what she had heard. Bellick had been there that morning. He had been there and drinking coffee. He had been there. He had been alive. It took a moment before Sucre stood up and walked off, everyone on tenterhooks at what they had just heard.

As well as mourning Bellick, everyone was also thinking of how dangerous things had become. There was always a selfish element to death, Clara found. There was always an element of people thinking of how their life could be cut short. Clara took a moment, composing herself before she dared to stand up and move off, everyone doing the same thing.

There were beers in the fridge upstairs and now, more than ever, they were in a mood for one. Clara went outside though, her hands on her hips as she took a breath of fresh air. She did her best to comprehend what she was feeling, but it was difficult.

Alex moved outside, following Clara and taking hold of her by the waist, his movement bold. Arms wrapping around her waist, he held her to him, one hand snaking up her back to cup the back of her neck as she let her forehead rest on his chest, her own hands going to hold his upper arms.

"I can't believe it," Alex whispered.

"I know," Clara responded in a small voice.

They stayed like that for a while, Alex moving to rest his chin on top of her forehead. Saying nothing further on the matter, they lapsed into silence and Alex let his fingers wrap into her hair, holding it gently before she spoke.

"Did you do it?" she asked of him, knowing he would understand.

"Yeah," he responded. "He's gone."

Clara could only nod, not wanting to know the details. Instead all she could do was look up and move, her lips coming to press against his, unsure of what she was doing as Alex remained confused. He didn't complain, instead he moved his hand to her cheek, holding onto it gently as Clara moved her hands to his cheeks, her thumbs tracing the line of his cheekbones.

Daring to move her lips against his, she felt his hand move into the small of her back, pushing her closer against him until their bodies left no gap. Clara moved her hands to the back of his neck then as Alex moved them backwards until she had hit the wall. She didn't complain as they continued too wrapped up in each other to notice anything else. Nothing else seemed to matter as they continued kissing, only pulling back when they needed a breath.

Resting his forehead against hers, Alex took a deep breath as he noticed her cheeks had turned red.

"I don't know what that was," Clara whispered.

"I think it was you who kissed me," Alex mused.

"Yeah," Clara agreed, "that's why it was better than your half assed kiss in Panama."

Alex managed to let his lips rise in amusement for a second at hearing that.

"Sorry," Clara said. "That wasn't appropriate…not today…Bellick…and Wyatt…and now I force myself onto you."

"Not like I'm complaining," Alex responded. "Besides, after today…everything that's happened…maybe this is what we both need?"

"Do you think?" she wondered.

"Yeah," he said, "I do."

And with that he moved to kiss her once more. Moving her hands to wrap into his hair, she grasped tightly onto him as Alex bent down further, his knees bending so that he didn't have to lower his neck as far. His hands moved down her sides and he felt her shiver as he took hold of her waist and he only pulled back when he felt her move her hands from his hair to lay limp over his shoulders.

It was then when she moved to wrap her arms around his torso, holding onto him as she pressed her cheek against his chest and he looked down to her, moving his hand to stroke her hair softly as he took in deep breaths.

"What's going on?" Clara mumbled, confused by the sudden turn of events.

She had known for a long time that she was attracted to Alex. Of course, she didn't know if he fully reciprocated those feelings. She had suspected that he might not. Of course, she had not been shocked at thinking that, less than three months ago he had still be pining over his ex-wife. But now Clara didn't know what to think. Perhaps he was attracted to her too? Maybe that was possible.

"I think…that…right now…we're both feeling…I don't know, Clara. Why do we need to question it?"

Clara scoffed. "You're a man who questions everything, Alex."

"Yeah, well not right now."

Clara closed her eyes, not bothering to challenge him. Instead she let Alex continue to hold onto her as darkness slowly crept in. She didn't know how long it was before the two of them went back inside, moving up to the kitchen where the rest of them were sat, holding onto beer.

Sucre didn't say anything as he pulled two bottles out of the pack, sliding them over to Alex and Clara. Lincoln chucked them the bottle opener and Alex caught it, opening both bottles before handing one over to Clara. She took hold of it and sipped on it, not used to the taste of beer. She ignored the taste as Lincoln spoke, his voice low as he held his bottle in the air.

"To Brad Bellick," he said.

Everyone copied his motion, moving to raise their bottles as murmurs echoed throughout them and they all went silent once more. Clara perched on one of the stools while Alex sat behind her. She felt him move to drape his arm over her shoulder, his hand going to hold onto hers as he sipped on his beer once more. Everyone around the table noticed the motion, but none of them said anything, knowing that now was not the time or the place.

…

Clara didn't know if now was the right time or not to bring up what she had discovered, but she did it anyway. She had awoken with a slight headache, her head resting on Alex's shoulder as he remained asleep, mouth slightly agape and eyes tightly shut. She'd gone for a quick shower, changing into a simple black dress with tights before heading to the kitchen and searching for a mug. Moving to grab a cup of coffee, she poured sugar into it before sipping on it and seeing Michael and Sara at the meeting table.

Walking down to them, Clara greeted them before launching into what she had discovered.

"Listen, yesterday, I found something out," Clara said, taking a sip and keeping her hands tightly wrapped around her cup. "Gretchen went into The Company's building. I think she's working for them again."

"Not like we can trust her," Sara scoffed and Clara agreed with that.

"She could be double crossing them," Michael said.

"Yeah," Clara said, "but then I saw Lisa and she told me something interesting. Gretchen and the General…well…let's just say they know each other pretty intimately. Intimately enough to have a child together, anyway."

Clara watched as both of their eyes widened and shock was clear on their face.

"That was my exact response," Clara said to them with a nod. "I know, it's pretty gross and Lisa wasn't exactly thrilled over the information."

"She had a kid with him?" Sara checked.

"Yeah," Clara said. "So that's why I don't know if we can trust her at all now."

"I'm sorry," a groggy voice entered Clara's ears as she turned her head over her shoulder to see Alex moving towards them, sitting down in the chair next to Clara as she slid her mug of coffee across to him. "Did I just hear that Gretchen Morgan had a child with the General?"

"Yes," Clara said, "that was not a dream."

"Doubt I'd dream about that," Alex mumbled into the mug as he sipped the coffee and pulled a repulsed face as he finished taking one big gulp and looked over to Clara. "What have I told you about putting too much sugar in coffee?"

Rolling her eyes, she took her coffee mug back as she looked back to Michael. "Any news on Bellick?"

"Self still has people looking for him," Michael whispered. "We'll find out later."

"Got it," Clara mumbled.

Alex moved his chair closer to hers then, watching as she bowed her head and he moved a hand to her arm. Her hair was still damp from her morning shower as they all remained sombre, sat around the table until Self made his appearance known, walking towards them and standing in front of the whiteboard.

"Any news?" Lincoln was the one to ask.

"We have Brad's body and it's on the way to morgue now," Self said. "No one will find it."

"That isn't the deal," Lincoln piped up.

Alex nodded. "You said that we would be returned to next of kin if anything happened to us."

"No, I didn't say that-"

"-Well, you did," Alex interrupted.

"No, I didn't," Self said, becoming irate. "He needs to stay anonymous until I say otherwise. I've got enough stuff to deal with…"

Self didn't have any chance to say anything as Sucre launched himself at Self, grabbing hold of him by the collar of his jacket and pushing at him, yelling in Spanish as Alex jumped up then, moving over towards the two of them and pulling them apart from each other.

"He has a mother," Sucre snarled and Self almost looked guilty.

"Brad Bellick's body is returned to his mother," Alex was the one to demand, "or we don't get you Scylla. You got it?"

Self said nothing, but nodded his head. "Listen, I need you all to get out of mourning, pack Bellick's stuff up and get on with finding Scylla."

"Yeah, well if you want us to do that then you need to get us the final pages," Michael declared.

"Well I'll call Gretchen," Self said before looking to Sucre. "And Fernando, if you ever touch me again then I'll be shipping you straight back to jail."

Alex pushed on Sucre's shoulder, urging him backwards and not to attack Self again. Self walked away, pulling his cell out of his pocket and leaving them alone, all glowering after him. Clara looked up and rolled her eyes to Alex who offered her a shrug of his shoulders.

"We need to get a move on," Michael declared. "I'll go with Self to get the pages from Gretchen. Everyone…just sit tight…I'll be back soon."

Lincoln stood too. "I'm off to sort Bellick's stuff out."

Clara saw Alex follow after them before she watched Sara come and take the seat next to hers.

"Hey," Sara said.

"Hey," Clara responded.

"Listen," Sara said, "I don't mean to pry and you can tell me to back off if you really want to."

"Go on," Clara urged her, taking another sip of her coffee that had gone cold.

"It's just that I heard you last night," Sara said. "While you were sleeping…you…well…you started screaming in your sleep about someone hurting you. Sounded like a pretty bad nightmare and Alex managed to calm you down."

Clara frowned. "I don't remember that."

"Yeah," Sara said. "Listen, I know that…well…Alex once told me that you were on sleeping pills to keep the nightmares away, but it's not like we have access to medicine in here…but…how long do you think it lasts?"

"The nightmares?" Clara wondered in a small voice. "I don't know. Why?"

"Just that…I'm having a hard time," Sara admitted, glad that she could talk to someone who understood her. "Gretchen was the one keeping me captive in Panama. I only escaped because a guard helped me, but she…on my back…she whipped me and I still have nightmares and…when Michael touches me…but you and Alex…"

"I know," Clara whispered. "I get it. I mean, I guess we both have matching scars then, but I mean…I don't know how to handle the nightmares. I sometimes don't even know I'm having them, as you've found out. But the thing about Alex…I just don't think of that man when I'm with Alex. When I'm with Alex…that's the only time I feel safe. I suppose it's natural for you to feel jumpy. You've been through a lot."

"Yeah," Sara muttered.

"I'm sorry I can't be of much more help," Clara told her. "I can't tell you to block out what happened because I know it's impossible. I can only tell you to focus on other things…happier things…the thought of getting through this and being with Michael, maybe?"

Sara chuckled. "It feels like that's an eternity away," she admitted.

"I know," Clara said, "but it will keep you going."

Alex suddenly emerged then, holding a police badge in his grip as he held it in his fingers and the two women looked at him. "Brad kept this," he informed them. "You know, from the Eagles & Angels event."

"Bless him," Clara said and Sara smiled softly before standing up and heading towards Lincoln.

Sitting down in her vacant seat, Alex held the badge in his fingers, his arms resting on the table. Clara moved then, wrapping both her arms around one of his as she lowered her head to rest on top of her hands. Chuckling at the motion, Alex bent down to press his lips against the top of her head.

"We'll get through this," he said in a small whisper, even though he didn't believe the words. But he had to keep hoping. He had to hope there was some way out of this.

...

A/N: Thanks so much to MissHodgehog for reviewing. I do hope you'll let me know what you think if you're reading!


	30. Chapter 30

Clara felt her mouth gape at what she had just heard from Alex and Michael. The two of them had been looking into Whistler's bird book while Sucre, Lincoln and Sara sat around the table. Michael had managed to persuade Gretchen to give him the pages and she had told them that The Company intended to move Scylla out of LA the following day.

Michael had questioned her motives, but she claimed that she was still on their side. He didn't entirely believe her, but he had the pages that he needed. He had pieced them together and was crouched over looking at them, Alex also with him. Clara could see the two of them staring with intent before she stood up and went over to look to it.

"What do you think?" Alex asked, looking to her as she observed it with intensity.

"The symbols," Clara whispered as Sara peered at them from her chair and Self continued to pace. "What do they mean?"

"That's the problem," Michael said, "they make no sense…I mean, a letter c usually is something to do with a heating vent. This," he pointed down to the page, "usually means it is a condensing unit. This P-trap is a plumping part. They're random items…they wouldn't be installed like that."

"C M E?" Clara wondered, pointing to the letters.

Michael nodded, rushing over to the whiteboard and writing it down as Sara took the map, spinning it slightly.

"The symbols make no sense on a map, but they do if you look at them literally," she said.

"So he is asking if you see him?" Alex wondered and Michael went to pick up the map and rush back to the whiteboard, writing letters on the whiteboard as Clara tried to decipher it.

It took Alex seconds. "David Baker?" he asked.

"How the hell did you get that?" Clara demanded as he walked past her, nudging her shoulder as he whispered down to her

"PhD doesn't come in handy for everything, huh?" he tormented and Clara rolled her eyes at hearing him before going back to focus at the task they were working on.

"So who is David Baker?" Clara wondered.

"No idea," Michael said, "but I think he has something to do with Scylla and the building."

"So we need to find him?" Clara checked and Michael nodded at her.

"Yeah," he said to her. "So we need to get going and make sure we can find him before The Company find him. If what Gretchen said was true and they intend to move it then they might need his help."

Standing besides Alex at the whiteboard, Clara peered onto it as Sara set about searching for a David Baker, Michael with her and Lincoln and Sucre sat quietly to the side. Self clapped his hands, urging for the team to get moving. Standing up, Michael took the map back to the whiteboard.

"So we have thirty yards to get through before we get to the building," he declared, pointing to the board. "So we need to get through it before we do anything else. You guys head down there and Sara and I will find David Baker."

"And Bellick goes home to his mom," Sucre said, voice demanding.

"Yeah," Lincoln agreed.

It was then when Michael turned around, about to move over to Sara, but he didn't make it. He fell to the floor, arms stretched in front of him as Lincoln and Sucre rushed forwards and Sara fell to her knees besides him, looking at him as she tried to get him to speak.

Wondering what the hell was happening, Clara stayed back with Alex and Self as Sucre and Lincoln picked Michael up.

"Come on," Sara said, not wasting a second as she reached for her bag and car keys.

"Whoa," Self said, holding his hands up, "where you going?"

"Hospital," Sara responded.

"Don't be hasty-"

"-This is my decision," Sara interrupted before Self could say anything else.

Moving towards the car, Michael whispered; "David Baker."

"We'll get him," Alex nodded to him, knowing he had bigger things to worry about.

Bundling Michael into the car, Alex shut the door on him as Lincoln stood by the window, telling his brother to be safe. Sara started the engine and moved off, the car speeding away as Self told them to make sure they used their fake IDs. Clara kept her hands on her hips as she watched them go and Alex went to grab hold of another set of car keys.

"What was that about?" Clara whispered to Alex as she followed him back to the table.

"Don't know," Alex muttered, "but I have suspicions."

He didn't air what those suspicions were, instead choosing to keep silent while Clara bit down on her lip and looked around, her eyes settling on Sucre and Lincoln. The pair of them were already bundling tools into a car, clearly heading over to GATE.

"I'll come and find Baker with you," Clara said to him.

…

Clara took the wheel for once, complaining to Alex how it seemed unfair that the men were the only ones allowed to drive. He had chuckled and told her to be his guest, directing her out of town and towards Baker's house. She kept her eyes on the road as she spoke.

"Go on," she urged him, "what about Michael?"

He took a deep breath. "When I was hunting Michael down I found out that his mom died of a brain aneurysm from a tumour…I…I don't know. I don't want to speculate. It might be nothing. He's in the best place for him."

"Jesus," Clara whispered in a small voice.

"I know," Alex agreed, "but all we can do is focus on getting Scylla and finding David Baker. We owe it to him to do that."

"Yeah, of course," Clara said, "just that Michael isn't even old is he? He's younger than both of us."

"I'm not old," Alex mumbled.

"Yeah, but you're not exactly a spring chicken," Clara responded.

"Hey," Alex protested, "I can still outlast people younger than me, as we have seen multiple times."

"I think that is with thanks to your training in the military," Clara mused. "So do I make a left up here?"

"Yeah, up the hill," Alex nodded at her.

She continued to drive until she came to park at the end of the road, putting the handbrake on and climbing out, lifting her sunglasses from her face. Looking to the building, she whistled lowly before ambling by Alex's side, looking around the front lawn and then watching the house.

"Nice house," she muttered.

"Too secluded," Alex replied.

"Too secluded?" she asked of him. "That's pretty perfect. No one to bother you when you want to be alone…"

"No one to run to if you're being burgled," Alex deadpanned. "And no one to run to if you have an emergency and-"

"-I get it," Clara interrupted him. "Do you have to suck the fun out of everything?"

He shrugged. "I guess that's one reason why you like me."

She chuckled, moving a hand out to press the doorbell. "Trust me, it isn't."

Waiting with patience and bated breath, the two of them looked into the hallway, the windows around the house offering no privacy. A woman came from a room, dressed in casual clothes as she spoke on the intercom.

"Yes?"

"We're looking for a Mr. Baker," Clara spoke.

"He's not taking new projects," she responded.

"But we have some questions about a project he worked on earlier," Alex declared and the woman sighed.

Her hair came down to her shoulders while her face looked concerned. She said nothing, instead letting them in and telling her to follow them. They did so, Clara in front of Alex as she took in the swanky house she was currently inside of. Coming to some steps, the woman opened the door as a man's voice called out.

"I'm working," he sounded agitated.

"These people would like to talk to you," she said, "about Scylla."

"You're Company?" the man wondered.

"Yeah," Alex said and Clara looked around, seeing all kinds of projects that he was working on as the woman wandered off, closing the door behind her. "We're in logistics and we have some questions about how to move Scylla."

"I don't remember much," David Baker said.

Observing him, Clara didn't see much. He wore glasses, his stubble covering his chin. He had a round face and beady eyes that were set on a model design he was working on. Moving over to him, Alex tried to make small talk, asking what he was working on. Letting out an exasperated sigh, the man began to speak.

"The world's first self-sustainable city," he said. "A community living in harmony."

"And the reality?" Alex asked, sounding genuinely intrigued.

"It's not impossible," Clara was the one to answer. "They have something similar in Dubai."

"You know about that?" he finally looked to her and stood up.

"My mom was in science and geography," she shrugged her shoulders as David Baker stood up, his shirt hanging open over a black top as he wandered through his office.

"So how long have you two been part of The Company?" Baker wondered.

"Too long," Alex muttered. "Anyway, we're having trouble finding out what is on those blueprints."

"Yeah, we get most of it," Clara backed him up, "but we just need help with the final bits."

Baker sat back down, looking up to Alex and Clara. He moved his eyes between both of them. "You're not Company."

"Correct," Clara said, "so we can drop the act and you can just give us what we want."

David stood up then as Alex shot Clara a look and she shrugged, following Baker outside as Alex muttered. "Smooth, Clara," he mumbled and she rolled her eyes before following Baker.

"Do you know what The Company do, Mr. Baker?" she wondered from him, her strides long and purposeful to keep up with him as he wandered outside and onto the lawn. "Do you know how many people they have hurt? How many people they have killed?"

"That is not what happened to me," Baker responded.

"So you got lucky?" Clara wondered from him. "You got lucky and you stayed here…hiding…while we're out there trying to stop them from doing what they do."

"Listen," David said, "The Scylla project was a choice project. I took it and that is it."

But Alex shook his head, pointing to David as he spoke. "But they told you what it was," Alex responded. "They told you what it was and that's why you're doing all of this, isn't it? You can't live with yourself because of it and that's why you're trying to make this city…to move on…trying to make amends."

"What they did is not my fault," David hissed, moving back inside as Clara and Alex followed them again.

"But you put your name in there," Clara protested. "You put your name in the blueprints."

"An accident," Baker said with a shake of his head. "It doesn't mean anything."

"How long do you think you can keep this up for?" Clara demanded. "Because they want Scylla moving and they will come back for you. Do you think that you can escape? Are you that foolish? Actually, I'd say you are."

Baker glowered at her as Clara moved forwards, standing in front of him with narrowed eyes as she spoke once more. "You're just a selfish man, aren't you, David? What was it? They ask you to do something for how much money? How to sell your soul?"

"Get out," David demanded.

"Not until we get what we want," Clara declared.

"Clara," Alex muttered her name, wondering if this was the right approach, but even he had to admit that he was running out of ideas as they shared a knowing glance between each other.

Letting her eyes narrow on David, he shook his head before they heard the doorbell ring.

"Were you expecting anyone?" Alex demanded from him, pointing to him, but David shook his head. Looking to Clara, he held his hand out, his fingers extending towards her as she looked to him.

"We need to go," he said to her.

"Not until we get what we came for," Clara said with a shake of her head.

"I have nothing to give you," Baker continued and Clara continued to glower at him, not believing a word that came from his mouth. "You should go…I only put my name because I am egotistic."

"Yeah, and an inconsiderate ass," Clara continued.

"You know, this isn't exactly how you get information from someone," David said.

Moving to look out the window, Alex moved back then, grabbing Clara by the elbow and hauling her to hide behind a desk, his arm wrapped around her waist as he bent down by her side. Baker did the same, the suits in the yard enough to make him quiver with fear.

"They're here," Baker said. "You need to go…but you'll never make it…or get past the first minefield."

"Minefield?" Clara demanded, but Alex was too busy doing what Baker had suggested.

"Don't tell them," he demanded, grabbing Clara's hand and tugging her off.

"Hey," Clara protested as Alex slipped them out of the door, his grip tight as he dragged her to hide behind a set of trees, pushing her back against one as he placed his hands either side of her head, leaning around the tree to look at the men in the yard.

"Clear," Alex muttered and took off, his hand going back to hers, but this she took his hand eagerly, her fingers slipping into his without looking at him as she kept her eyes behind them, looking to the men advancing closer towards Baker in his study.

"Down the hill," Alex said, slipping between a row of hedges.

The hill was steep, steep enough for Clara to fall down, her hand letting go of Alex's. Moving back to her, he grabbed her by the waist, picking her up and placing his hand on the small of her back, pushing her forwards as he remained upright, the noise of screeching tyres entering their ears.

Coming the car, Clara found the keys from her pocket, unlocking it as a woman came towards them in the car they had just heard. Clara jumped into the car while Alex looked to her as she held a hand out towards him, a piece of paper in her fingers.

"Go," she demanded from them.

"Your husband…" Alex began but she shook her head.

"He'll never help you," she informed them, "but this will."

Unfolding the paper, Alex looked down, seeing the codes that had been in the bird book translated on that page. He took the paper as the woman drove off and Clara started the ignition, recklessly driving down the road as Alex reached for his seatbelt and fastened himself in.

"Close, huh?" Clara asked, a sound of worry in her voice as Alex nodded.

"Just a bit," he responded, "but I think we have what we need."

"And the minefield?" Clara wondered. "What the hell did he build down there, Alex?"

"I don't know," Alex admitted, "but we'll soon find out."

…

Arriving back at the warehouse, Alex was the first one from the car, running up towards the whiteboard where Michael was stood working. Before either of them had a chance to ask how he was doing, he was talking.

"Did you get anything?"

"Yeah," Alex said, showing him the piece of paper. "It's a code. They all match to the blueprint. Baker's wife gave it to me. They came for him while we were there."

"Now this makes sense," Michael said as Sara appeared and Clara went to stand by them.

Michael began to speak about the minefield. "These symbols aren't p traps…they're microphones…and the v…it's a generator," Michael continued. "And this is a line of landmines buried underground. It says manual override only…all attempts to dismantle the landmines will set off an alarm."

"So we need to tell them," Alex said, looking to Clara. "Car key." He demanded.

"I can come-"

"-You're going nowhere near that building," Alex interrupted, snatching the keys from her and then running off, not bothering to wait for anyone.

Watching him go, Clara sat down at the table while Michael tried to call his brother and tell him what they had found out. Clara didn't know if they would make it in time, but after Sara told her how Sucre had stood on the landmine she began to panic. If The Company found out then they would be all over it.

"How did it go at the hospital?" Clara asked from Sara.

She shrugged. "We had to run," she said. "The cops came before we could see a doctor. They wanted him to stay in."

"How's he doing?" Clara wondered as he kept trying to call his brother.

"I'm not sure," Sara admitted to her. "I'm really not sure."

Nodding, Clara didn't feel like prying any further. Instead she remained seated, looking at the code that Baker's wife had given them. She let her eyes roam over it, wondering what else could be thrown at them. She didn't know how much more they could all take.

…

Returning back to the warehouse, Alex watched on as Clara stood in the corner and everyone else gathered around a coffin. A coffin with Brad Bellick's body inside of it. Looking to it from a distance, Clara didn't feel like intruding. She hadn't exactly known Bellick that well like the others. She didn't have a history with them. She had watched as Alex placed the badge with the body, giving him one final look at before returning back to Clara.

Moving to wrap an arm around his waist, she nestled against his side, a sense of contentment sweeping through her for a moment as he reciprocated, his arm going over her shoulders as he brought his head down, his lips pressing to the side of her head.

"We keep going?" Clara asked of Alex and he nodded at her.

"Yeah," he said. "Come on…let's go for a walk."

Leaving the warehouse, Clara kept her arm inside of Alex's, both of them ambling along the side of the port.

"What did you find when you went down into GATE?" Clara enquired from Alex.

"Nothing really," Alex told her. "There was just a room. We overrode the landmines and Lincoln was on about drilling through to get a look. We don't want to knock the wall down and let them know we're close."

"But if they move it then it won't matter," Clara responded.

"They can't move it," Alex said with a shake of his head, despite the fact that he knew they could move it. He knew all too well. "What do we do if they move it? We don't even have the final card yet."

"I'm pretty sure Michael has a plan on how to get it," Clara responded.

"Scofield has a plan for everything, but I don't know, Clara…I saw him in there. He's sick," Alex said, "and he's going to try to hide it from us, but none of us are stupid. We know whatever is wrong with him, it isn't good."

"I don't know," Clara said with a sigh. "I guess all we can keep doing is carrying on for his sake."

"It's what he would want," Alex shrugged. "Anyway, Sucre and I will go back to the building tomorrow and try to find out what exactly is going on."

Clara moved her hand down Alex's arm, her hand going to hold onto his. She closed her eyes for a moment as they stood still by the edge of the dock. Moving slowly, Clara still didn't entirely know if Alex minded her attentions as she hesitated wrapping her arms around his waist. But he didn't seem to mind. Instead he was busy moving his own arms around her.

"You know when this is finished," Clara whispered in a small voice, "if we get out of it…maybe we could go for a drink? Do something normal for once?"

"Yeah," Alex agreed, "I think I would like that. You do drink like a fish, though."

"Hey," Clara complained, pulling back to look at him, moving to hit a hand against his chest. "I only drink like a fish when I'm by myself. I do try to restrain myself out in public on dates."

"A date?" Alex echoed. "Is that what you want?"

"I never said that," Clara said with a shake of her head towards him.

"Going for a drink tends to mean going for a date," Alex told her. "Or it did when I was in the dating pool, but that was about…well…seventeen years ago…or maybe more. I'm not good at this kind of stuff. I thought that I was going to be with Pam for the rest of my life. I never thought…"

"I get it," Clara promised him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound too forwards. I just…" she trailed off, unsure of what more she could say to him, but he was shaking his head at her. Instead he was too busy moving his hands to her cheeks, holding them tenderly to bring her gaze back to his.

"I never thought that after Pam I'd be able to feel something for another woman," he admitted, "but I think you're the exception, Clara. You're the exception to all of the rules that I thought I would live by."

"I thought that we weren't going to do this," Clara whispered to him. "I thought that we were going to discuss this after."

"And what if after is too late?" Alex wondered of her. "Clara, we both know how dangerous this is. Bellick has gone and every day we wake up and we don't know if we will get through it, so if I want to tell you that I think I might…well…you know…care…very deeply for you…then I will. I'll tell you and I'll tell you everyday until this is over."

Closing her eyes, Clara looked away as she felt her eyes grow with water. "Alex, if we get out of this then I know things will change. You have Pam. You love her."

"Yeah," Alex nodded, agreeing with her on that matter before he spoke again, moving his hands to her shoulders and holding them tightly. "I love Pam. A part of me will always love Pam…but too much has happened and she…she deserves to move on and away from me. I accept that. It hurts, but I accept it, and if I had any common sense then I would tell you to do the same thing because I don't deserve you to look at me the way you do. I don't deserve anything from you."

"Stop it," Clara said, her gaze searching his as she spoke forcefully. "Don't talk like that. I'm the one who should feel that way. Look at me, Alex. I…I have nothing…I have nothing to offer, but you still stay around me."

"Clara, you are so wrong," Alex said with a deep chuckle, shaking his head back and forth as he dared to move and hold onto her hands inside of his. "I don't want anything from you. I just want you."

She nodded her head at him then. "I can do that," she whispered, "so long as you're sure."

"Pretty sure," Alex mused, bending down until he was kissing her once again.


	31. Chapter 31

Clara had been sat around the warehouse all day, looking over every folder on The Company. She had poured through them and listened in as Sara pleaded with Michael to go and have the surgery he needed. Alex had tried to tell him that he would be there to make sure everything went to plan before breaking into Scylla. He went away, kissing Clara swiftly on the forehead as she sipped on her coffee.

She almost blushed as he completed the motion and left, people watching her with intrigue. Michael was sat across from her and he arched a brow, looking in her direction as she finished gulping down her coffee, the glasses she had borrowed from Alex sat on her nose.

"What?" she wondered as Sara draped an arm over Michael's shoulders and sat down next to him. Noise echoed through the warehouse as Sucre, Lincoln and Alex all headed off to work, determined to break into Scylla that day.

"Nothing," Michael said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Just that you and Mahone seem cosier than usual."

"Shut up," was all Clara could mutter as she went back to looking to the folder in her fingers. "Anyway, what's the plan for you two today?"

"We're going to the hospital later on," Sara said and Clara nodded her head, daring to glance over to Michael.

"You going to be okay?" she wondered, unsure of what was wrong with him as he pinched the bridge of his nose, holding it for a second before nodding his head and looking Clara in the eye.

"Yeah," he said. "I'll be fine."

"He's sick and he needs to go to the hospital," Sara said, her look on Michael stern. "So if you hear him try to talk himself out of it then I need you to shut him up…stick tape over his mouth or whatever."

Clara chuckled at that, nodding her head and agreeing with her. "Got it," she said to her. "Besides, I'm sure Alex and everyone else can get the job done. I mean, how hard can it be?"

"Near impossible," Michael told her. "They can only make a certain amount of noise and once they are in the floor is censored and if the room heats up beyond a certain degree then the alarm also goes off."

Gulping, Clara swallowed more of her coffee. "Yeah, I guess that sounds impossible."

"Pretty much."

"So what do they do once they're in?" Clara wondered. "Because, last time I checked we didn't have the final card."

"That's the problem," Michael nodded before dropping the pen he was holding, his hands going to hold his head as he looked to the ceiling and then to Sara. "I can't do this."

"You can and you will."

"No," Michael said with a shake of his head. "I should be down there helping them finish this. I should be there…I need to be there. I have to go and I have to help. This isn't just about me, this is about them and they need me. Sucre…Lincoln…even Alex…I can't abandon them now."

Clara stood up and left the two to their argument. She took her cup of coffee with her and moved up the steps towards the kitchen, but Michael was right, not about himself, but in general. Clara felt as though she should go down there now. She shouldn't abandon them. She should be there to help. If The Company knew they were going to steal Scylla then what would they do?

Putting her coffee cup in the sink, Clara moved down then, grabbing a set of car keys from the table before grabbing hold of a leather jacket and throwing it over the floral wrap dress she wrote. Michael looked to her as she moved off and he stood up too, finishing his conversation with Sara before he spoke to Clara.

"Your cousin," he said to her, "does she do the Eagles & Angles event often?"

Clara nodded. "She should be there today. Why?"

"Because I have a plan," Michael said with a nod of his head.

…

Clara grunted as she crawled through the tunnel behind Michael. Struggling to cope with the enclosed space, she moved slowly and climbed out, Michael helping her to stand up once she was at the other end. Pushing herself to stand up straight, she noticed the tunnel led further down as she dropped her hands to her hips and looked down to her legs that were covered in tights.

"I ripped them," Clara complained. "Damn tunnel."

Following Michael, she came to the place where they working and everyone turned to look at them. Lincoln moved with haste, grabbing Michael by the arm and demanding to know why he wasn't currently about to go in for surgery. Alex moved towards Clara, speaking in a low voice as he bent down closer to her ear.

"What is going on?" Alex wondered.

"He wouldn't go to the hospital," Clara responded in a low voice. "He has a plan to get Scylla and the last card. Just trust him."

"I do," Alex said. "I just don't know why you're here."

Rolling her eyes, she looked to the tools they were using. "I can be helpful. I know that is a drill," she pointed to it, "and I know that you have umbrellas to catch the rubble once the wall comes down so nothing hits the floor. I have been in the warehouse while you've been plotting."

"Yeah," Alex nodded, "but then there's the issue of what happens if we get caught. If Krantz finds out you were-"

"-If Krantz finds out any of us are trying to steal Scylla then he will kill us all," Clara responded. "So let's just worry about not getting caught…well….we want to get caught, but nothing will happen."

"What are you on about?" Alex wondered.

"Right," Michael said, gaining everyone's attention, looking to them all with a stern expression as Lincoln continued to glower at him. "This is the plan."

…

Clara was doing her best to keep silent. She was crouched behind Michael, looking to the laptop screen. She said nothing, knowing that they couldn't say anything as she watched the screen, brow furrowing. She continued to watch as Alex pushed the umbrella through the gap and it fell into the room, dangling by a thread before opening up.

Climbing down from the ladder, Alex began to help break down the gap in the wall with Sucre. Both of them were working quieter than usual. Once the gap was in the wall, Sucre climbed through it, assembling a ladder piece by piece. Clara went to grab hold of the can of liquid nitrogen. She handed it through the hole to Sucre, making sure it was securely in his hands before backing off.

Placing a hand on the small of her back, Alex continued to peer through the wall while Lincoln stood to the other side of him. Clara had to restrain herself from screaming out in panic as soon as she saw Sucre begin to tumble down towards the ground. Alex moved quickly, placing a hand over her mouth as he saw her open it. They watched on as Sucre struggled to regain his balance, but he managed it as Lincoln climbed through to help him.

Pulling him up and taking the can from him, Lincoln stepped back as Sucre nodded, silently thanking him. Clara let out a long breath as Alex looked to her, brow arched as she shrugged her shoulders, unsure of what she was motioning to him as Sucre went back to assembling the ladder and Alex made sure everything was tight to hold it up.

Standing to the side as Michael passed through the hole, Clara watched on as he wandered across the ladder. He stopped for a second, hand going to hold onto his forehead as everyone watched on with bated breath. Bending down, Michael finally came to the glass and cut through it, climbing into the room that contained Scylla.

What was Scylla? Clara couldn't be sure. It looked like a computer tower from the distance she was stood at. But as Michael opened it up, she knew the alarms would have started. Lincoln and Sucre moved then, rushing forwards onto the makeshift bridge. Alex followed, hand going to pull the gun out of the waistband of his jeans as Clara followed him, grabbing the laptop and the backpack that Michael had brought.

"The General is going to come through those doors in less than two minutes," Michael spoke as Clara handed him the equipment.

"With his guards," Alex said, making sure his gun was ready to go should he need it.

"Yeah," Michael nodded. "So get hidden."

They did as they were told as Michael stood in front of the elevator. Clara went to stand behind Alex while Lincoln and Sucre stood next to each other at the other side of the elevator. Waiting with anticipation, the elevator doors opened wide and the men all stepped out, but before they could do anything, Sucre, Lincoln and Alex were pointing at them with guns.

"Drop the guns," Lincoln demanded, but no one moved.

Alex reacted then, pointing his gun at Scylla. "Did you hear him?"

"Put your weapons down," the General demanded.

"Come on," Alex demanded, forcing the men into the corner as Clara watched him keep his gun trained on them.

"You almost had it," Jonathan spoke in an off handed tone. "You almost got into Scylla, but you blew it at the last moment. What did you think would happen?"

"We didn't blow it," Michael responded. "In fact, we are right where we need to be. Pass me your Scylla card."

Jonathan didn't even argue with Michael, pulling the card out from his pocket and handing it to him as Michael placed his hands to his hips as a smug look came over him and he turned to glance to Clara, tilting his head to the side as Alex watched the exchange and Sucre took care of aiming his gun at the guards, sensing that Alex's mind was on Clara.

"I'm disappointed in you, Clara," he declared. "I knew you were lying to me when you came to see me that day, but I never thought that you would align yourself with a bunch of common criminals."

"Common criminals?" Clara echoed. "I don't think so. Besides, you have no right to be disappointed in me. After everything you did…I mean, did it even pain you to send someone to torture me?"

"I did what I had to do to keep you away, or so I thought," Jonathan responded.

"And my parents?" Clara demanded. "What did you do to them? I know my mom was working on one of the projects that The Company was aligned with. I know that. What did you do to her? That whore of a mistress of yours told me it was no accident they died in."

"Gretchen," Jonathan muttered.

"Yeah," Clara said. "So what did you do? There's no use denying it. I know you're involved."

"It pained me," Jonathan admitted as Michael continued working on Scylla. "Your mother was…well…she…she just wouldn't stop, Clara. You know what she was like. She was always snooping and putting her nose in places where it didn't belong. She was a pain, really."

"What did you do?" Clara asked, losing any sense of control. "What did you do to them?!"

Alex moved then, grabbing hold of Clara by the waist to stop her from attacking Jonathan as he watched her. He didn't even answer because he didn't need to. Clara knew exactly what had happened. She tried not to let her emotion show as Alex kept his arm around her, restraining her and holding her back.

"I see you've taken quite a shining to her," Jonathan mused.

"Don't talk about her," Alex demanded, "and don't talk to me."

"Regardless," Jonathan said, turning to look to Michael. "You have lost. You have one card. If you did your research then you would know that you need the other five."

"Good job I have them," Michael said, pulling out the duplicated cards and plugging them into Scylla as Jonathan looked worried then, his face dropping as Clara glowered at him.

"Bet you weren't expecting that, you bastard," Clara snarled as Alex felt her twitch and his arm remained around her, her back pressed flush against his chest as she shook.

The tall tower opened and revealed nothing that looked important, but that was what they had risked their life for and, in Brad's case, died for. Pulling it out, it was simply a black unit. Looking to it with intrigue, Michael nodded and placed it into his backpack alongside the laptop.

"You're not getting out of here," the General said. "You know that, don't you?"

"We will give it a go," Lincoln said.

Moving towards the elevator, Clara stepped in with Alex, his hand holding her elbow to stop her from lashing out. Instead all she could do was keep her glare on Jonathan as Michael and Sucre joined them in the lift.

"General, we need you to activate it," Michael said and Krantz stepped in, doing as he had been told. But before he could step out, Lincoln was in front of him, forcing him back into the elevator.

"Where do you think you're going?" Lincoln demanded from him as he pushed him back into the steel box.

Clara ground her teeth together as the elevator went up and she looked down to the ground, waiting until it came to a halt and they all stepped out. As anticipated, there were more guards waiting, but they were soon taken care of. Lincoln kept a gun to the General's head while Alex and Sucre pointed there's at the guard.

Moving down the corridor towards his office, Alex was the last one in the room, shutting the door and locking it too. Moving through the room, Clara found herself going to the window while Michael went to the corner, pulling his cell out and making a call.

"So what now?" Krantz wondered, stood by his green leather coach.

"We wait," Michael said before taking hold of a piece of pen and paper from the General's desk, sitting down in a chair.

"Is that the desk you sat at when you demanded Wyatt kill my son?" Alex demanded from him.

"Don't panic," Michael assured Alex. "He's going to be making no more demands."

"You know this building has gone into lockdown?" Krantz spoke.

"Just shut up," Clara snapped at him and moved over to the mini bar, grabbing his bottle of scotch and pouring a small glass.

"Think I can get one of those?" Sucre wondered.

"Sure," Clara said, pouring him a glass and passing it over to him.

He downed it in one as she did. She moved to grab another glass before speaking, unable to contain herself as she felt the anger inside of her continue to build. Krantz sat down as Sucre perched on the arm of the sofa, gun trained on him.

"She was your sister," Clara said in a disbelieving tone. "And I am your niece…I mean…what the hell is wrong with you?"

"What is done is done, Clara," Krantz continued. "There is no bringing them back now. Your mother intended to tell anyone she knew about The Company. She knew exactly what we were going to do. What we wanted to do. Pulling the shots…she disagreed. Of course, she isn't the only one who worked for The Company. You know about your father, right, Burrows?"

Standing up and moving to his desk, he pulled a photo from it, handing it over to Lincoln who looked down to it and then dropped it on the man's desk again while Michael looked intrigued.

"We know he worked for you," Lincoln said, "but he wanted out."

"Is that what he told you?" Krantz asked.

"Yeah, he was a data analyst."

"The lies keep on coming," Krantz declared, "but of course, there is so much you need to learn about The Company…about your dad…and your mother, of course."

Lincoln reacted then, grabbing the General by the lapels of his jacket. "I'll kill you."

"Not before I have a shot," Clara said, walking over to them and pushing Lincoln by the chest until he let him go. He dropped him and Krantz went back to the sofa, a smug look still on his face as he sat down and Clara shot Lincoln an understanding look as he perched on the desk.

Clara walked back over to the window as Alex stood near her.

"So what is it you all want?" Krantz demanded from them, looking to Sucre. "Fernando, I know you have a daughter. I can pay for her college education-"

"-What the hell?" Clara demanded, interrupting him and slamming the glass of alcohol onto a surface.

"What?" Alex also backed her up. "You think you can chuck cash at us and we will go away?"

"And what about Pam?" the General demanded and Clara looked away from him as he stood up and wandered towards Alex, buttoning up his jacket as he went. "She needs you now…now more than ever. Going through grief alone can be tough. Can't it, Clara?" Krantz looked to his niece. "Is that not how you coped with Theresa's death? Alone? I doubt Tom was any use. Do you want Alex's wife to feel the same way?"

"Stop talking," Alex demanded from him, standing before him.

"What?" the General demanded. "Has my niece got her claws into you already? I know what she was like in college, Alex. She went through boys quicker than anything…managed to hook them in. I thought those days were behind her when she met Tom, but perhaps she has gone back to them. How long do you think she will want you for?"

"Shut up," Alex demanded again.

"Or perhaps you might break her heart?" Krantz suggested. "She is madly obsessed with you from what Wyatt told me before you presumably killed him. In her drug addled state she couldn't stop talking about you."

"Is it because you're jealous?" Alex wondered, voice low as he continued to stand less than an inch from the General and Clara gripped hold of the window, not sure if she wanted to hear anything else. "Your niece…no…scrap that. She doesn't deserve to be related to you. So, Clara is a good woman…a woman who has gone through so much but keeps on going, so don't you ever talk about her like that again or I'll show you exactly what I did to Wyatt."

Moving from him, Alex looked to Clara as she shot him a soft look and he could only nod at her, silently promising her that he had her back through all of this.

"This is ridiculous," Krantz suddenly spoke and moved towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Lincoln wondered, blocking his way.

"So you'll shoot me?" Krantz demanded to know, "and then what? You are not leaving here with Scylla."

"We are," Clara piped up, "I mean, if you want Lisa to live we are."

He stopped then, turning around to look at her as she folded her arms over her chest. Eyeing her with suspicion, Krantz shook his head continuously as Clara watched him, daring him to challenge her once more.

"What about Lisa?"

"Oh, so you do care about someone," Clara said, hand to her chest as Michael's cell rang. "I'd imagine that call is for you."

Michael answered it and put in on speaker. "It's me," Lisa declared. "Tancredi has me at gunpoint. She says that if you don't let Michael and the others go then she will kill me."

Michael hung up the phone, a smirk on his face. "You should do as your daughter asks."

"Son of a bitch," Jonathan declared.

They let Jonathan ponder over what he had just heard before he spoke, clearly believing he could have the upper hand once again.

"Listen, I know that your girl would not hurt a fly," Jonathan said and Clara let out a chuckle before speaking.

"That was before you had Gretchen beat her senseless," Clara declared. "People have changed, Jonathan."

"She's right," Michael said, holding up the paper he had been writing on. "These are all the people you have killed…sons…fathers…mothers…do you think your daughter's life is worth anymore than theirs?"

"You wouldn't," Jonathan said, turning his stare to Clara. "She is your cousin. She didn't know what I had done to you. She never knew. She loves you, Clara. You know that."

"I also know she lied to my face," Clara hissed. "I also know that she works for you and in my mind that makes her just as bad as you are."

"What happened to you?" Jonathan asked and her eyes widened.

"What? You mean since I was the college slut?" Clara wondered. "A lot has happened since then that you know all about. So how about you let us walk out of here and Lisa doesn't get hurt, because I swear to God I will make sure someone puts a bullet in her head if you don't let us go."

Clara knew she was bluffing. But she was doing it for all of them. She couldn't show weakness, not a time like now.

"Just don't hurt her," Krantz said, looking to Michael.

"We won't," he said.

"Now get us out of here," Lincoln demanded, gun to Jonathan's head as he moved to the door.

They all followed, the room emptying one by one as they walked past the armed guards and Krantz ordered for them to stand down. They did as they were told and Clara looked around as they walked down the corridors. She felt a hand on her back and she looked over her shoulder to Alex.

"You okay?" he asked.

She wanted to shake her head and break down. She wanted to tell him that she was anything but alright. But she nodded her head. She would be fine.

Coming to the elevator, Jonathan called it, stepping inside as they all followed. Once in the lobby, the doors opened and the fresh air hit them all, a sense of relief almost dawning upon them. They were so close and they could almost sense the end.

"How does it feel?" Alex suddenly demanded from Jonathan. "Knowing that someone you care about will die if you don't do it? Huh? After what you did to me and Clara, you deserve to pay for this."

"It's karma," Sucre said. "What goes around comes around."

Coming to the street, Krantz nodded to a vehicle. "This is what we were going to use to transport Scyalla," he said. "But I want to speak to my daughter before you take it."

"No," Michael said. "You will only talk to her once we are gone."

Alex stayed back, noticing some guards had followed them, his gun trained on them. Lincoln moved then, grabbing the General by the chin and pushing him against the side of the van, muttering something to him that Clara couldn't make out as she stayed by Alex's side. Whatever Krantz said in response seemed to have an impact as Lincoln trained his gun on the back of his head.

"Come on," Michael urged his brother, climbing into the van.

"How long do you think you can keep running, Clara?" Krantz wondered from her. "I will give you one final chance. Come back in with me and I can keep you safe. If you go with these men then you will end up dead. You know that."

Scoffing, Clara shook her head. "I'd rather be dead than go anywhere near you."

"Then that will soon be seen to," Krantz promised before Alex stepped in, pointing at the man.

"You go anywhere near her and I'll kill you myself before she can get to you," Alex declared, opening the back of the truck.

Climbing into it, she sat down on a bench before Alex closed the door once Sucre was in. Driving off, Clara buried her face into her hands, letting out a loud groaning sound as Alex looked down to her.

"He's gone," Alex assured her.

"Do you think?" Clara wondered. "Because I don't want him gone, Alex. I want him dead. I want to kill him for what he did to my parents…to your son…and I don't think I can stop feeling that way."

"We're almost free," Alex said. "Clara…we have a chance to leave here…to be free of all of this. Is he worth risking that for?"

"Yes," Clara said without a moment of hesitation. "But I'll settle with seeing him rot in a jail cell or fry in the chair."

"I think that's what will be in store for him," Alex assured her.

They continued driving, pulling up outside of the airport. Jumping from the back of the van, Alex reached to take Clara's waist, helping her down as Michael looked to the them and Sucre.

"Read for the final part of the plan?" Michael wondered.

"Yes," Alex nodded.

"See you when this is done," Lincoln nodded to them and they took off.

Running away from the airport for a few blocks, they came to a quiet location and Sucre doubled over, catching his breath for a few moments as Clara nodded to Alex, checking her watch. They had been running for five minutes. That gave the brothers plenty of times. Pulling his cell out, Alex called the cops, declaring that he had seen a suspicious looking item in the airport in a backpack. He gave them details of the location and everything.

Hanging up, Alex nodded to Clara and Sucre. "We've done our bit."

"So what do we do now?" Sucre wondered.

"We go back to the warehouse and wait for them to call," Alex said before Sucre pulled Scylla out of his waistband where he had it hidden.

Beaming widely, Sucre let out a laugh as Alex smiled and his phone rang. Answering it, he told Self that he had it. They had it and it was finished.

…

Michael had given the device to Self while the man had returned a brown envelope that promised them their freedom. Apparently the vans would be sent to them in half an hour and they would go through processing. Self gave Michael the envelope with all the information in. Self had even promised Michael an ambulance to take him to the hospital before he had left.

"Half an hour," Clara whispered to Alex. "So in half an hour you go with them and this is over. You're free…from all of this."

"And where will you be?" Alex asked from her and she folded her arms over her chest, creasing her dress as she wandered along the edge of the warehouse, peering up to the building.

"Not here, that's for sure," she said to him and he let out a small laugh. "I don't know. I might head to some hotel, call the college and see if I still have a job. And then I might head down to the bar and drink a glass of wine…see if anyone fancies drinking with a loner."

"You never know," Alex shrugged, "there might be a tall, handsome stranger who walks in and joins you."

Clara laughed at him then. "I can only hope it's George Clooney," she said and he shot her a small smirk. "If not then I think I know who I'd like the alternative to be."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Clara responded. "There's a hotel…the Sunset Plaza…I've stayed there before."

"I might be able to find it," he taunted her.

"Good," she said, "because if not then I think I'll just have to see if George is free."

"Trust me," Alex said, looking her in the eye as he moved down to wrap his finger underneath her chin, tilting her face up towards his. "I'll be there."

Kissing him softly, she barely heard Lincoln approach them, coughing until they broke apart. Hands on his hips, he watched the two of them look the other way, Clara seeming more flushed than Alex as Lincoln shot her an amused glance.

"Shut up," she demanded before he could say anything to her.

"No," Lincoln said, "I just wanted to say I told you so."

"Again, shut up," she demanded from him.

It was then when he looked to Alex. "You remember what I said when we first arrived here?" Lincoln wondered.

"You said we had a score to settle," Alex responded.

"It's settled," Lincoln nodded his head, "so long as you keep her safe. She has a habit of finding trouble without looking for it…she's even worse when she's looking for it."

"I am here," Clara protested and Lincoln chuckled.

"Yeah, and you've been a pain in my ass since I met you," Lincoln told her, shooting her a smile before moving by her and pressing his hand to her shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Clara."

"And you," she urged him, "and go back to your son and Sofia. No doubt they'll be missing you."

"Hope so," Lincoln chuckled and wandered off.

"So what do we do while we wait?" Clara wondered from Alex.

"I heard there were still some beers in the fridge," Alex said. "Maybe we can start those drinks early?"

Clara agreed with that suggestion, both of them heading upstairs and grabbing a beer, joining Sucre in sipping on the cold liquid. They chatted and seemed light hearted about everything, despite the fact that they had yet to go. Clara's mind was still on Krantz but all she could think of was how he would look when Homeland went for him.

"We have a problem."

The voice came from Michael as the three of them stopped drinking and moved down to the meeting table. Looking to Michael, they waited for some kind of explanation, but the mood was sombre. Sara's head was buried in her hands while Lincoln had his hands clenched into fists. What the hell had happened?

"Self isn't answering the phone," Michael said.

"The envelope," Alex croaked out, slowly realising what Michael was trying to say.

Going to the envelope, Michael pulled it open and looked at it. His eyes closed and Clara instantly knew. Pulling the papers from it, there was nothing on them. It was a ream of blank paper. The mood in the room instantly changed as Clara dropped her head and moved to grab Alex's hand.

"Self," Michael whispered. "It was Self…"

"He's played us," Sara whispered. "He's played us all."


	32. Chapter 32

Lincoln was the one to fly into a fit of rage, but that didn't shock anyone. They knew exactly what he was like. He had smashed at the white board while Alex paced around the table and Sucre shook his head, holding his head in his hands as he finally spoke.

"Self has to be coming," Sucre said.

"He isn't," Lincoln said.

"But he's government," Sucre protested.

"That means that he can do what he wants," Alex was the one to speak, beginning to walk up and down along the side of the table again.

"So what do we do?" Sucre asked.

Pulling his cell out, Michael did the only thing he could think of. Lincoln perched on the edge of the table as Alex bowed his head. Sitting down in a chair, Clara looked to Michael as he put the call on speaker, a woman answering.

"I'd like to speak to Don Self's superior," Michael declared.

"What if Homeland were in on this?" Clara enquired, looking to Michael.

It was then when a man answered the call. "This is Herb Stanton, who is this?" a man from the phone answered.

Shooting Michael an inquisitive, Clara watched him hang up the phone as Alex then spoke.

"If Homeland were in on this then they're going to come for us," Alex spoke. "They're going to have details on each and every one of us. They're going to come."

"Let them," Sucre said. "We did nothing wrong. We have a deal."

"No," Alex shook his head, pointing to the sheets of blank paper. "We have nothing. We have empty paper. That is all that we have. So we need to get out of here. We need to go before they come."

"No," Sara was the one to answer. "Michael needs surgery."

"Yeah," Alex agreed, "but I'm not on about running. I'm on about trying to survive. If we don't go now then they'll find us and it will be too late."

"And where do we go?" Sucre wondered, flapping his arms by his side. "We run away again? We run and go into hiding? How long can we keep it up for?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Alex moved towards the table, picking up a set of car keys. "We keep it up if we want to stay alive because now we've got Homeland on our backs and The Company. No doubt Krantz will still want us dead for what we did to him."

They all kept quiet, knowing full well that Alex was right. No one wanted to admit. No one dared to admit it. Clara pushed herself to her feet, nodding her head at him. If he was going then she sure as hell was going with him.

"Fine," Clara said to him and he nodded at her, looking around the table once more.

"We need to go," Alex repeated to them.

"Alex is right," Michael nodded. "Pack up your stuff and get ready to go."

They all dispersed, but the main issue was that no one had any stuff that they wanted to take. Clara slipped into a leather jacket, grabbing hold of her battered satchel and swinging it onto her shoulder. Moving alongside Alex towards a car, she took a deep breath as they prepared to go on the run once more.

…

The hotel room they had checked into was crowded after they had seen Homeland come to them. Herb Stanton had called Michael and demanded for him to go back to the warehouse, but Michael had been told how they had allegedly stolen Scylla and killed two agents. Michael had yelled at them, telling them how Self had set them up.

But they didn't believe them.

So that was how they all found themselves trapped in a hotel room. It was dated and cheap, looking over a street. There were two beds pushed against the wall, a creaking sofa and a carpet that had seen better days. Hesitantly, Clara had sat on the edge of the bed next to Sara who had her legs crossed, not seeming to mind the décor as much as Clara.

"Self pinned two murders on us," Sucre said, sitting down on the sofa.

"I ain't going down for that," Lincoln grumbled out.

"So what are we going to do?" Clara wondered.

"We need to flush Self out," Michael said.

"No," Sucre said. "We should start to plan how to get away from this. We should start planning to run to the Mexican border."

Michael shook his head. "I can't go back to that life," he said. "I can't live a life where I am constantly looking over my shoulder and wondering if I am going to get caught. It isn't a life. It's an existence. So we finish what we started."

Alex was stood in the corner of the room, only moving when Sucre turned up the TV, news that a man called Cole who worked at GATE was wanted and on the run. Sucre almost chuckled at seeing that.

"Is that Bagwell?" Clara wondered from the sketch they were showing.

"Yeah," Alex nodded and went to sit down on the other bed, looking over to Michael as he sat besides Sara and Clara stood up, moving around the room. "If you want to get to Self, then you need to ask yourself how he intended to sell Scylla."

"Gretchen," Michael answered.

"So we find Gretchen?" Clara wondered from them. "Where would she go? I mean…we did betray her. But if…if I was Don...if I wanted to find her then I'd go for her family. That's if he even knows about them?"

"How did you find out?" Sucre wondered.

"Lisa," Clara responded. "But all he would have to do would be to have her file and if he planned this then he would have it. We just need to get the details on her. We need to find her family and her daughter."

"And how do we do that?" Sara wondered.

Nodding, Clara moved towards the door, grabbing her bag as she rushed with haste. "I'll be back in ten minutes."

"Clara," Alex called after her, refusing to let her leave.

Moving after her, he ran down the steps behind her as she continued on her mission. Determination swept through her body as she came to the street and looked down. Lincoln and Sucre soon appeared, both of them following after her.

"I'm going to call Gretchen," Lincoln said as they caught up with her. "I'm going to see if she knows anything about this and try to meet her. What's your plan, Clara?"

"I have friends," Clara said. "Well, not friends, per say, but I know people who might be able to help us if I ask nice enough. If we find the address for her family then we might just find Self and bring that bastard in."

"Listen," Alex said, grabbing her arm as they came to a harbour, the sun glimmering on the water and causing them both to squint. Going to the pay phone, Lincoln used it first while Alex kept his hand around Clara's arm, dragging her down the wooden walkway.

"We're sitting ducks," Alex said to her, his voice low as she looked to him with a tilted head. "Whatever Self has been planning, he's been planning it for a while. Do you think that there really is anyway for us to get out of this? I…I think Sucre was right…I think our only option is to run."

Clara shook her head at hearing that. "We can't," she said. "Alex, if we keep running then Michael is right. We live a life where we are constantly looking over our shoulder and no one wants that. I know you don't want it…not really."

"No, what I want is to stay alive," Alex confirmed to her and she chewed down on her lip, harsh enough to draw a little bit of blood. "What I want is to be free and be in that bar in that uptown hotel with you, drinking beer and talking about things that won't get us killed."

Clara did soften then, smiling to him for a second as she moved her hand to his cheek, stroking it softly for a second before stepping closer to him. "We'll have that," Clara said in a whisper, gently moving to kiss him for a second, "but we're not running. Not now."

…

Gretchen had agreed to meet the team in an hour. They had gone back to the hotel after Clara had called her contact in the force. He had managed to find an address and Clara had scribbled it down in the notebook she kept in her bag, thanking him before hanging up and going back to the hotel with Alex.

"I don't like this," Sucre was the one to complain. "Gretchen and T-Bag were waiting with guns for us to come back. I mean, they're going to betray us."

"Of course they are," Lincoln said. "Gretchen does what she wants when she wants. We need to meet her and get to Self."

"The good news is that we haven't made the news yet," Alex said after he had been studying the TV in the corner. "Homeland must be keeping it to themselves. I don't know how long for, but we might have a shot."

Sitting around the wooden coffee table, all of them prepared for the mission they were about to embark one. Clara was knelt on the floor besides where Alex sat in one of the cracked armchairs. He leant forwards, looking to the TV again as Clara moved the map that she was holding. She had one arm draped over Alex's lap as she held the map mid air.

"Found it," Clara muttered, pinpointing the address of Gretchen's so called sister. "Don't know how long it would take to get to her, but if she doesn't meet then we know where to go."

"So we head to the park?" Sucre asked.

"We head to the park," Michael confirmed.

…

Looking over the park, Clara stood on a balcony overlooking the green area next to Alex. He held a pair of binoculars in his fingertips as Michael asked them if they had any sign of her. Alex said they didn't. Wrapping her hands around the railing in front of her, Clara kept her eyes focused in the distance. She had her mind focused on one thing and that was finding Gretchen.

"She isn't going to come," Clara said, sensing it in her gut. "Alex, she isn't going to come."

"She's got ten minutes," Alex responded.

"But she's also never been trusted before," she reminded him. "And if she does show then I think she's going to betray us."

"I don't doubt it," Alex said, "but we just need to be smarter than her, which I think we are. I mean…Scofield's not stupid."

"Neither are you," Clara reminded him. "Both of you have minds that I don't understand."

Listening to a siren in the distance, Clara squinted at the noise as Alex placed the binoculars against his eyes once more as Michael's voice came over the walky talky.

"We've been set up," he declared. "The feds are here."

Peering through the lenses, Alex didn't need to be told twice once he had seen the man in the suit. Dropping the binoculars he took hold of Clara by the hand and they both turned around, leaving the balcony they had been stood on. Walking calmly along the path so as not to attract attention, they tried to act inconspicuous but it was proving impossible.

"How did they know?" Clara said in a small voice. "Do you think it was Gretchen?"

"No idea," Alex mumbled. "All I know is that we need to get out of here pretty quickly."

"I'd concur with that," Clara said as they rounded a corner and came to see Sara moving towards them.

Standing in the entrance to the park, they looked around as Michael joined them.

"They got Linc," he said, pulling his cell out as Alex spoke.

"Listen, Michael, I have a friend in the bureau. She might be able to help us."

"Who are you calling?" Sara wondered.

"I knew I should have shot you when I had the chance to…yeah…so who set me up?" Michael said, clearly speaking to Gretchen. He went silent for a second, adjusting his baseball cap on his head. It was then when a man's voice spoke down the phone and Michael spoke. "Don, we're coming for you."

Hanging up the phone, he put the cell in his pocket.

"We need to go," Alex repeated. "We need to get out of here."

They all agreed with that, the four of them rushing away and looking around, making sure no one had spotted them as they went, relief coursing through them as they returned to the hotel room. Sucre was already there, pacing with his hands on his head as he looked between them.

"Who set us up?" he asked.

"Self," Michael said. "He's with Gretchen."

"So he did go to her family," Clara said. "Why else would he be with her? He must have threatened them and she went running. Not that I can blame her."

"By the time we go to her address we'll be too late," Alex said.

"I know," Clara muttered.

It was another few minutes as Michael sat on the sofa next to Sucre, when his cell began to ring. Answering it, he put the call on speaker after a moment, Lincoln's voice entering their ears.

"Homeland know that Self screwed us," he said, the line slightly patchy.

"What do they have?" Alex wondered, moving closer to the phone.

"A foreign bank account and a plane ticket out of here," Lincoln responded. "We get full immunity if we testify against Self, but they want you all to come down to the warehouse."

"Do you believe this?" Clara whispered to Alex.

"No," he replied.

Hanging up once a senator had promised them they had their word that nothing would happen, Michael nodded his head. He knew that they had to go and talk to him. He had to get his brother out and make sure he was safe. He had said that Sucre, Sara and Clara would go to the meeting point while him and Alex would meet the senator.

But Alex had other ideas. Moving from the room, Clara followed him, not letting him wander off on his own. Following him down the staircase, she saw him turn his head over his shoulder to look at her.

"Go back to the room," he urged of her.

"No chance," Clara said to him. "I'm going nowhere, Alex. Where are you going?"

"We both know this meeting with the senator isn't going to end well," he told her. "I…look…I've been thinking. I still have contact with Lang. She could help. She could believe us and try to get us a meeting with someone in the FBI who will hear us out."

"And everyone in there?" Clara wondered as they stepped onto the pavement once more and she suspected that he was going to try to find a pay phone again.

"I'm going with Michael, but if I know Michael…which I think I do…he's got no intention of walking away from this," Alex told her. "So I'm going to call Lang and do what I can to help him because those people in the warehouse...I don't believe anything they say."

Nodding her head, Clara agreed with him on that.

…

Sitting in the bus interchange, Sara was tetchy and Clara could see it. Michael had gone off to the warehouse while Mahone had come back, telling them all that they had to go. Booking tickets out of LA and back to Chicago, he handed Clara one before looking to Sucre and Sara who were sat in the bus station, both of them speaking to each other.

"They won't go," Clara said as Alex stood besides her, his hand on the small of her back as he urged her towards the gate. "Alex, they're not going to leave."

"That's not our issue," Alex informed her. "We're going. They can do what they want, but they're just going to get arrested. We need to go and we need to go now. We have a two-day bus journey ahead of us with plenty of stops before we get back to Chicago. So we need to go now."

Nodding her head, Clara sent one last look in the direction of both of them before letting Alex lead her to the gate. Climbing onto the bus once her ticket had been checked, she wandered down the aisle towards the back, sliding into the seat and settling down. Alex sat next to her, his legs spread as he leant forwards and his hands held his thighs.

"What if Lang can't do anything?" Clara asked in a small voice. "I get that she is a miracle worker after everything she did in Panama, but how far can she go?"

"I don't know," Alex admitted. "I know that I lost her trust, just as I lost yours at one stage. I need to try and convince her I am telling the truth."

"I know," Clara said. "I just…after everything that has happened…everyone in the government…who can we trust? I know you trust Lang, but how can we trust whoever she gets to help?"

Alex shrugged at her. "We don't know if we can," he admitted as more people clambered onto the bus. "But it's one of the last things we can do. By now they're all probably arrested or Michael's plan has worked and they're back on track to getting Scylla."

"That's his plan?" Clara wondered.

"Yeah," Alex said. "Like I said, I don't know if it's going to work, but it's worth a shot."

"It'll work."

Alex chuckled at hearing her. "You're too optimistic."

She scoffed. "I'm really not," she said. "Have you met me? I'm rarely like this."

"Yeah, well," Alex shrugged over to her. "For once, it's quite endearing. At least you're keeping me going."

"I don't know," she mused. "We have a two day bus journey. I don't think my presence will keep you going after a day. You'll probably want to kill me."

"I doubt it," Alex responded to her.

"I only hope it isn't Wheeler who she knows," Clara muttered, closing her eyes as she moved to rest against his side, her head going to his shoulder. Alex rolled his eyes at hearing her, lifting his arm up to let her burrow closer as his fingers draped over her shoulder, feeling the leather underneath his fingertips.

"If it's Wheeler then we're screwed," Clara mumbled. "Although I'd quite like to give him a piece of my mind for hauling me into the field office…what…two times?"

"Something like that," Alex mumbled as the bus finally began to move and he let his head rest back in the seat, his eyes slowly closing as Clara continued to mumble.

"What an ass," she grunted and Alex chuckled, unable to stop himself as he heard her.

Moving slowly, he let his free hand reach over his body, his fingers coming to sit on top her arm that she had going across her body. Clara only smiled at the touch, content to let sleep take over her for the time being.

…

Two days on a bus were hell, as Clara had learned. They had stopped at six different locations, changing over onto different buses until they finally reached Illinois, Chicago. Looking around the familiar city, Clara had demanded that Alex purchase some new clothes, the ones he currently wore beginning to look haggard. He had concurred, finding a simple white top and a black jacket to throw over it along with some jeans.

Clara had also bought a new dress, tossing her old one in a bin as they walked towards the meeting point that Lang had set. Looking to her, he saw that the dress she wore was floral once more, long sleeves coming down to her wrist. Her sunglasses sat on her face, despite the fact the clouds were in full force in Chicago.

"Do you miss it?" Clara suddenly wondered as they stepped onto the bridge in the middle of the office buildings, smart men dressed in business suits wandering around as they went for a drink after work.

There were some families, clearly going about their own business. Clara mused for a moment, wondering if they were going out for dinner together. Perhaps some of the parents were taking their kids to an after-school class? Clara didn't know what they were doing, but she did know that she would swap places with them in a heartbeat if she could.

"Miss it?" he wondered from her.

"The normality?" she said. "The working life…just…I mean, I miss not being chased by people wanting to kill me, but I don't know if I miss this life. The going to work, coming home, drinking and then sleeping. I don't know…peace and quiet sounds great right now, but also it means coming back to the mundane life I have where the most excitement I had was travelling to speak at conferences."

Listening to her, Alex suspected he had rarely thought of it, but buried it deep down. Of course he still envisaged going back to the FBI, but he knew it was just a dream. Scratch that, he shouldn't even be dreaming about it. It was never going to happen after everything he had done.

"I don't know," Alex shrugged. "I miss the quiet too, but I know that if we ever get out of this then the chances of me going back to the FBI are non-existent. I don't know what I'll do."

"Perhaps we might both have a career change," Clara shrugged. "I don't know. I've always enjoyed teaching, but I want a change."

"Well, we should think about it when this is over with," Alex said to her. "Maybe go to a different state altogether?"

"Yeah," Clara said. "I've always like NY."

"Too busy," Alex muttered. "I'm thinking somewhere you can go to sleep without hearing the noise of blaring horns."

"You know not all of NY is like that?" she asked of him.

He didn't get a chance to respond as Lang's voice appeared from behind them. Whirling around on the spot, Alex let his eyes sweep over the woman. She had hardly changed. Dressed in a smart grey suit with a white shirt, she offered Alex a slim smile as he pushed his hands into his pockets and nodded at her.

"You came," he observed.

"Always do," she shrugged, hands going into her pockets too as she looked between them. "So, you two are still together."

"Yeah," Clara answered. "He can't seem to shake me, not that he tries too hard."

Lang smiled softly before looking back to Alex. "So what's going on, Alex? You said you had some important information."

"I do," Alex confirmed and began to tell Lang what had happened. He recalled everything about Scylla, The Company, Don Self. He told her how he couldn't trust anyone in government. He told her how they had lost Bellick and how Michael could be in trouble.

She listened with intensity, arms folded over her chest as she watched Alex with intrigue and Clara remained stood by his side, letting him do the talking.

"I know you don't have to trust me," Alex declared. "And I know that after everything I have done I probably wouldn't trust me either, but I need your help."

"I know," she informed him, "and I do trust you, Alex. Despite all of this sounding mad, I do trust you."

"Thank you," Alex said. "Is there anybody you trust in the bureau who would believe us? Anyone who could help us?"

"There is someone," Lang said. "Meet me at the diner downtown we used to pick coffee up from. I'll be there in a couple of hours and bring him."

"Thank you, Lang," Alex said, his voice genuine as he looked to her and she offered him a small smile, moving forwards to place a hand on his arm gently. "For everything."

"I'll see you soon," was all Lang could offer and she moved off as Alex went back to look to Clara, exhaling a shaky breath as she ran a hand down his arm.

"We can do this," Clara said, sounding more determined than she felt. "We'll get through this. It will be fine. It will all be fine."

All Alex could offer was his usual non-committal 'yeah', his hand moving to take hold of her by the hand as they wandered off and Alex hailed them a cab, holding the door to it open and telling the driver where they wanted to go.

The drive didn't take too long and walking into the diner, Clara felt her stomach rumble at the smell of the food. Moving to the counter, Alex ordered two coffees, but then Clara saw the cakes and pies in the cabinet and instantly felt like a kid in a sweet store. Pulling her purse from her bag, she ordered a slice of apple pie, chocolate cake and a cinnamon cookie.

"How are you hungry?" Alex enquired as the waitress said she would bring it over.

"All we have ate in the past two days is a packet of chips," she declared. "I have a right to be hungry. I'm human."

Sliding into a booth, Alex sat next to her and not across, making sure he could see the door and that they were near a fire escape should they need to run. They still had over an hour until Lang came back with whomever she trusted. Leaning back in the booth, Clara yawned loudly as Alex draped an arm over the back of the seat.

"Here you go, honey," a woman said, placing down the food after a couple of minutes and Clara reached over Alex to grab a napkin and fork from the cutlery holder at the end of the table. Picking the sugar up, she began to pour it into the coffee.

"Why do you insist on pouring so much sugar in?" Alex questioned from her and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Are we going to have this argument again?" she asked, sipping on the coffee before cutting into a slice of pie and popping it into her mouth. "You're never going to change me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Alex chuckled to her and she ate a slice of the chocolate cake while Alex looked down to the food.

He then picked up his own fork and cut into it as Clara shot him a glare. "I thought you wasn't hungry?"

"So you're going to eat all of that by yourself?" he wondered from her.

"Don't challenge me," she warned him. "The way I'm feeling I could go back and order the pumpkin pie to add to this collection."

Alex chuckled, despite everything, and rolled his eyes at hearing her, shoving a forkful of apple pie into his mouth. "You're crazy, did you know that?"

"Oh yeah," Clara said, chewing down on a piece of the cookie she had tore off. "But, like you said, you wouldn't change me."

"Yeah, I might take that back," he informed her and she moved to elbow him in the side as he picked at the cake and laughed. "And you know what, so long as I'm around I'm going to try and get you to decrease the amount of sugar you pour in coffee because it really isn't healthy."

"You ruin all the fun," Clara complained to him.

"Only to annoy you," Alex taunted her.

They finished the rest of the food with a playful conversation, the waitress taking the plates away and bringing them a refill on the coffee. Crossing her legs underneath the table, Clara moved her hands through her hair, pulling it from her face and tying it in a ponytail as she motioned to the door.

"Lang," she said, seeing the woman step in.

Alex nodded to get her attention and she moved to them, but Alex was too busy looking at the agent following.

"Shit," Clara complained as he walked in. "What did I say yesterday?"

"Anyone but Wheeler," Alex muttered.

"Anyone but that ass," Clara muttered. "Now we're done for."


	33. Chapter 33

"Level with me," Clara whispered as Wheeler approached them, "how bad will it dent our chances if I slap that smug smirk off of his face?"

"That's if I don't get there first," Alex informed her and she almost let out a laugh, but she kept it in, her glare remaining on Wheeler.

Slipping into the booth opposite them, Lang sat across from Clara while Wheeler sat across from Alex. The look on his face was enough to make Clara ball her hands into fists. He was looking at them like they were nothing but dirt. It was as if they were beneath him. He really was a piece of work. Moving to sip on his coffee, Wheeler then laced his fingers together on top of the table.

"Good choice for a meeting spot, Alex," Wheeler said. "A crowded place and some exits…a table with a view of the room. I'd say life on the run is suiting you."

Alex felt his hand move under the table to grasp hold of the edge of the seat, gripping onto it tightly as he looked down for a moment, his other arm still resting over the back of the chair as Clara remained sat up straight, hands gripping the mug in front of her.

"I hear you've been promoted," Alex responded.

"When you're not a disgrace or a drug addict it is impressive how far you can come," Wheeler responded.

"Hey," Clara snapped at him as he turned his gaze to her. "He's clean, you jumped up little toad. Don't you dare talk about him like that."

He looked at her with a level stare and Alex moved his hand under the table to rest on top of her thigh, his fingers curling around it as he hoped to subtly tell her that he could handle Wheeler. She didn't bother to look to him, her eyes remained fixed on Wheeler. Moving her hand to rest on top of Alex's she flipped his fingers over, allowing hers to clasp around hers.

"Well, thank you, Ms. Reynolds, for that charming statement," he responded.

"Wow," Clara responded, eyes wide, "if you think that's charm then you've been dating some pretty harsh women."

"I see sarcasm is misplaced with some people," was all Wheeler responded with and Clara rolled her eyes, not biting the bait that he was offering her as Alex got to back to business.

"Let's get a move on, Mark," Alex said. "So let me appeal to the side of you that loves your photo in the newspapers."

Folding his arms on the table, Wheeler leant further forwards. "Lang told me. You've got some good intelligence. I don't know whether to be more sceptical of The Company or of some middle aged man who lost his job."

"Were you not there?" Clara demanded from him as Alex looked around for a moment. "I came in front of you and Sullins and I told you what they have done. What is it? You want me to show you the scars again? I think I might just have that needle scratch from where their hitman injected me. Just let me check."

Before she could roll up her sleeve, Alex was stopping her, fingers going around her wrist as he placed her arm back down in her lap, his gaze fixed on her as he saw her redden and he knew what she was thinking. She would sometimes go back to that dark place. Usually it would be in her dreams, but Alex could sometimes see horror plaster itself on her face when someone mentioned the likes of Wyatt or being hurt by The Company.

Gently, he kept his hand holding onto her wrist, moving down until he had engulfed her hand with his fingers once more. Looking back to Wheeler, he watched as the agent kept his gaze on Clara who, in turn, was looking out the window.

"You need to keep your girlfriend under control, Alex," Wheeler said, but Alex ignored him.

"Felicia tells me you know the Attorney General."

He huffed and sat up straight, back cracking slightly as he made the movement. "Yeah," he confirmed.

"Look…everything is compromised…the bureau…Homeland…I need someone who I can trust. I need to know if I can trust you before I tell you anything."

There was a moment of silence as Alex watched Wheeler with intent, his thumb roaming over Clara's knuckles as she remained more focused on the outside world. Keeping silent, Alex watched as Wheeler leant forwards once more, voice stern and in a hiss.

"If you get me credible information then I will see about taking you to the Attorney General myself."

Nodding, Alex gave Clara's hand a final squeeze before slipping from the booth. "You'll get it," he told Wheeler, pulling his cell out to call Michael while Clara remained sat where she was.

Turning his attention to her, Wheeler watched her for a moment. "I would have thought that you would have more sense," he declared.

"Mark," Lang warned him as Clara looked back to him, her eyes wide as all the anger had left her face. Instead all that remained was a look of worry. She had gone back to that place. She had gone back to that night when that man had broken into her house and tortured her.

"You have no clue," Clara said to him, her voice slightly hoarse. "You have no idea what we've been through or who you are dealing with. The Company…they're everywhere. They're…I can give you everything. I can tell you who runs it. My uncle."

Mark looked shocked then as Felicia turned away and Clara continued, leaning over to look at him.

"My uncle runs The Company and he sent someone to torture me. My own uncle…what…you think I'd make this up?" Clara demanded from him. "Don't you get it? All we want is to get away from this mess."

"If you wanted to get away from this mess then you should have thought before you pulled the trigger on Oscar Shales," Mark declared and Felicia let her voice drop to a dangerous level as she glowered at Mark.

"That case was dropped," she snapped at him. "Why don't you just leave her alone?"

"Because we all know what she did with him, and what…now they walk around acting like Romeo and Juliet?"

"I should hope not because I don't fancy ending up dead," Clara deadpanned before Alex returned, slipping into the booth and nodding his head at them.

"Give them half an hour," Alex said, "and then I will have the Intel you need."

That was the longest half an hour of their life. Clara remained sat where she was, looking down to the table as her hands remained under it, her leg bouncing up and down as she tried to control her nerves. Alex had gone back to resting his arm over the back of the chair, fingers drumming on the faded red material while his other hand held his thigh.

"I'll give them another call," Alex muttered after twenty-five minutes had passed and he pulled his cell back out, calling Lincoln. "Yeah, it's me," Alex said. "Did you get it?"

The look on Alex's face was enough to tell Clara that they hadn't gotten Scylla. He kept on talking, but Clara couldn't catch what he was saying. She kept silent as he hung up, moving her hand to his forearm as he looked into the distance and Wheeler scoffed, slipping away. Bowing her head, Clara let her forehead rest on Alex's shoulder as he turned his head to look to her, his arm crossing over his body to rest his hand on her arm.

"They've got Michael," he told her. "It…it didn't work."

"So what now?" Clara wondered as Lang left them alone, heading to talk to Wheeler.

"I don't know," Alex admitted, for the first time in a while at loss. There seemed to be no hope left. Instead all he could do was let his arm move to wrap over her shoulders. "Maybe the deal still stands and we can speak to the AG."

"They're arguing," Clara responded, looking out the window to them.

"I know," Alex replied.

Lang left Wheeler for a moment, walking back into the diner and perching down in the booth once more, looking between the two of them. "The Attorney General will hear your case," she said to them. "The flight to Dallas to talk to him leaves in forty five minutes. Provisions have been made for Ms. Reynolds to be taken home."

"What?" Clara demanded, shaking her head as she let go of Alex. "But I know things too. I want to go with him."

"Not possible, I'm afraid," Lang replied and she stood up, moving off as Clara remained in the booth with Alex, watching the woman leave, her hands on her hips and her head bowed.

But Alex knew. He knew exactly what was happening. If Clara wasn't coming with him then that only meant one thing. She tried to move past him, her body barging into his as Alex remained where he was, taking a deep breath and knowing that he had to accept his fate. Looking to her, he couldn't let on that he knew they had been played. Instead he looked her in the eye, hands going to her shoulders.

"It's my testimony they want in exchange for immunity," he told her. "You're not under arrest for anything, Clara."

"But I can back up your story," Clara protested.

"Yeah," Alex agreed, "so get out to Dallas as soon as possible, okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Clara said, following Alex as he stood up.

Moving out of the diner, Alex kept his hand on the small of her back as Wheeler held the back door to the car open, waiting for him to climb in. Clara moved to stand in front of Alex, not caring that Wheeler was waiting for them. Instead she remained silent, hands on her hips as she looked to him.

"I'll see you soon, okay?" she told him. "We'll be fine…somehow we'll get through it."

"Yeah," Alex said, voice hoarse and Clara wondered why he was struggling to look to her. It wasn't like this could be goodbye, could it? Alex moved towards her, his hand going to hold onto her cheek as he leant forwards, bending slightly until he had pressed his lips against hers.

She savoured the moment before Alex pulled back, giving one final stroke of her cheek before he climbed into the back of the car.

Clara watched Wheeler shut the door and she folded her arms over her chest, shooting him a glare before he climbed into the car. Alex looked out the window, watching Clara until they had pulled away. She didn't move, instead all she could do was stare after him. Sitting up, Alex looked to Lang in the wing mirror before speaking.

"There's no meeting, is there?" he said in a whisper to her.

The tears in her eyes were enough to confirm that to him.

"It's alright," Alex said to her. "I don't blame you. Just…call Clara…tell her not to book a ticket to Dallas. Tell her what has happened."

"Of course," Lang whispered to him. "Of course."

…

Clara had thrown herself into a fit of rage as soon as she had been told the news. She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. They had lied to her. Lang had spoken to her on the phone and told her not to fly to Dallas. They were taking Alex straight to jail. Wheeler had played them. Clara had yelled, her voice audible to Alex as he sat in the back of the car and heard her.

He could hear her demand to speak to him, but Lang said that was not possible. She had told Clara what would happen to him and Alex had gone numb then, unable to believe that this could be it. He didn't want this to be it. He wanted to get out of that car and go back to LA. He wanted to find Scylla. He wanted his name cleared. He wanted to see Clara again.

"So how did you manage it, huh, Alex?" Wheeler wondered. "How did you manage to get her wrapped around your little finger?"

"Shut up, Wheeler," Alex muttered.

"She sounded pretty pissed."

"Yeah, she doesn't appreciate people lying to her," Alex reiterated. "Which, by the way, neither do I."

"Did you think that we were going to take you to the AG?" Wheeler wondered from him. "Alex, after everything you've done, you're going nowhere but a jail cell. Anyway, she's better off without you, despite the fact that she's-"

"-Don't finish that sentence," Alex demanded from him, interrupting him with a low and dangerous voice. "Just don't talk about her."

…

Clara didn't know what more she could do. She had tried to help Alex, but it hadn't worked. So she did the next best thing. She pulled her cell out of her bag and she called Lincoln, demanding to know where he was. If she could go back and help them get Scylla then maybe, just maybe, she could save Alex from a life inside of a jail cell.

…

Picking her up outside of the airport, Lincoln climbed from the car, his blazer flying around him in the breeze as he saw her. She had her bag on her shoulder and her suitcase was by her side. She shot him a smile, but it was fake and plastered on her face. The sunglasses on her eyes covered up her puffy red eyes as she moved to embrace the burly man in front of her, her arms wrapping around his waist for a moment.

"How is Michael?" Clara wondered, pulling back after a second to look up to him.

"He's recovering from surgery," Lincoln said. "There's…Clara…there's something I need to tell you and you're not going to like it."

"What is it?" she wondered, but some car behind Lincoln's let their horn make a blaring noise. Clara rolled her eyes as Lincoln took her case, opening the trunk and putting it into the space before getting back into the car.

Driving off, Lincoln let out a deep breath.

"I'm working for your uncle."

His sentence took her off guard, her mouth gaping widely as she felt her body slowly become covered in goosebumps. She shook her head as Lincoln continued to drive, focused on the road instead of her. She thought that this was some kind of joke, but as Lincoln kept speaking she knew it wasn't.

"I had no choice," he informed her. "Krantz was going to let Michael die if I didn't agree to get Scylla back. He…Michael was sick, Clara…really sick…he wasn't going to make it and I had no other choice. Believe me, I hate this just as much as you do. I know what he has done."

"But tell me there's a plan," Clara pleaded with him. "A plan where Michael gets better and we get Scylla somewhere safe?"

"No," Lincoln said to her. "I'm not the man with the plans, Clara. We both know that. Michael is the one who plans…I…I'm doing this because I want my brother to be safe."

"And I came back to get Scylla and help Alex," Clara said. "I like Michael, I really do, Lincoln, but Alex…they took him away. They don't believe him and they're going to lock him up."

"Listen, I'm sorry about Mahone, okay?" Lincoln told her, "but there's nothing I can do about that. He isn't my number one priority."

"No, but he's mine," Clara responded with haste. "And I know that you don't want to help Krantz. I know that, Lincoln. So…so we need to come up with a plan. We need to be Michael for once and find something to make this work for everyone."

"And how do we do that?" Lincoln asked from her.

"I don't know," she admitted in a whisper. "I honestly don't know."

…

Lincoln filled Clara in on everything. He told her about how Michael was still in The Company's care and how a buyer had escaped with Scylla while Sucre and Lincoln had held Gretchen and Self hostage. Clara had then gone on to learn that Lincoln was now in the process of working with Gretchen, Bagwell and Self who had gone on to Miami to find the buyer from the Company.

Sitting in the hotel that Lincoln had booked, he looked over to Clara, wondering what to say to her. He had told her that they were heading to Miami that evening and that she could either join them or stay behind, given the circumstances. Apparently Krantz knew that his niece was back in town. He had demanded for Lincoln to bring her to the headquarters, but even Lincoln wasn't stupid enough to do that.

"I'm not making you go to him," Lincoln informed her. "Listen, Clara, I know that this isn't ideal."

"Isn't ideal?" she echoed. "Every time you come off the phone you give me more bad news. So now we need to work with a rapist, a woman who I am pretty sure is psychotic, and a man who betrayed us? How the hell can we trust them?"

"We can't," Lincoln told her, "and that's why Sucre left. He couldn't get deeper into this and I don't blame him, just like I wouldn't blame you if you turned around right now and told me you wanted out…wanted to go home and be safe."

"And Alex?" Clara wondered. "I know you're working for The Company now to keep your family safe, but promise me we won't stop fighting to get Scylla into better hands."

"I don't care about that anymore," Lincoln shrugged. "I just care about protecting the people I love."

"Just as I do," Clara said, "and that is why there is no chance I am letting you go out there alone. Alex is…he's…I want him back. So we go."

…

Clara felt sick as soon as she stepped into the apartment and saw them all sat around the breakfast bar. Their eyes turned to her as she wandered through the space and Lincoln walked besides her. Both of them were silent, but Don was the first one to speak, no doubt unable to keep his big mouth shut for more than twenty minutes.

"She's here?" he demanded from Lincoln.

"Got a problem with that?" Clara snarled. "I'm doing this to help Michael." She lied easily. "So why don't you just shut your face and get on with finding Scylla, you two faced bastard."

Gretchen actually let her lip quirks at hearing Clara while Bagwell let out a low whistle.

"I do like 'em feisty," he commented and Lincoln shot a glare in his direction.

"You go anywhere near her and I'll make sure it isn't a tooth I rip from your body next time," Lincoln warned him as Clara dropped her bag onto the sofa and pulled her cell out, wondering if she could get in touch with Alex. Would there be anyway for him to know what was happening?

She doubted it. She didn't even know where he was. She should find out. She should find out where they were holding him. She should do that much for him. But she had no numbers for anyone. Keeping silent as she wandered onto the balcony, she let her arms dangle over the side before peering out at the marina. She could hear them talking behind her, but she didn't move.

She gathered up the courage to go back in, knowing that she was out of her depth.

"We have a hit," Gretchen was the one to speak and Clara looked over to him as they all stood around a computer screen. "The guy made three calls to this restaurant last night."

"I'll go and check it out." Lincoln said, looking to Clara. "You coming?"

"Yeah," she nodded with haste, not fancying staying in an apartment full of crooks. Moving to grab her bag, she followed Lincoln back to the car, jumping in as Gretchen text him the address and he tapped it into the GPS.

"Promise me you won't leave me alone with them," Clara urged from Lincoln.

"Why did you think I asked you to come?" Lincoln responded. "Don't worry. I'll keep you close by."

…

The trip to the bar had proven to be useless. They knew that they were being lied to when the bartender and manager said that they didn't know who they were talking about. But then Lincoln had started a brawl when the blonde woman in the background continued to look shifty. Standing back, Clara watched Lincoln deal with the men before demanding to know the buyer's identity from the blonde woman. She had shrieked loudly, fear in her voice as she told him that the girl who worked there knew him.

Dragging her from the bar, Clara had rolled her eyes at his dramatics, watching as he demanded for her to call the girl and bring her to a specific location. Clara sat in the back of the car, listening with intent as the woman said that the girl would be there in a minute. Apparently the buyer and the girl had a volatile relationship.

The girl approached and Lincoln climbed from the car to speak to her, leaving Clara sat in the back seat. But as he moved, Clara knew something was off. The girl moving towards him didn't look at him. Instead she looked into the corner as gunshots began to fire.

"Hey!" Clara yelled as the blonde woman they had kidnapped jumped from the car.

Moving out the vehicle, Clara tried to chase after her but it proved fruitless. She had gone. Lincoln grunted in frustration before moving back into the car and Clara shook her head.

"She was his girlfriend," Clara said.

"Good job I took insurance," Lincoln said and pulled out her wallet that he had stolen and Clara nodded.

"Very clever for you," she said.

"I'm working on it."

…

Lincoln chucked the wallet over to Gretchen once they had returned, telling her to do a scan on the woman. She set about working while T-Bag and Self remained on the balcony, talking to each other.

"What are they on about?" Clara was the one to ask.

"Don't know, don't care," Lincoln mumbled.

"I'll give you two guesses," Gretchen responded, looking to Clara. "And trust me, if you can't get it in two then you shouldn't be here. Besides, I'm shocked you're here. I take it you found out what your uncle did?"

Clara kept her lips pursed for a second. "I'm not doing this for him," was all she said. "So just keep your nose out of my business and get to work."

Clara wandered off then, moving up the steps and towards the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and taking a deep breath. Stepping in front of the sink, she ran the cold water before crouching over and splashing her face with cold water, some of her dark locks sticking to her cheeks once she had made the motion. Closing her eyes, she took a moment to herself before drying her hands, tugging the dress she wore down her thighs before leaving the bathroom again.

Going back down, she saw Lincoln and Gretchen sat on the sofa.

"We sent the boys to check the girl's apartment," Lincoln informed her as she perched on the chair, nodding her head.

"Let them get their hands dirty for once," Gretchen continued.

Clara ignored them as Gretchen said how she thought this was an inside job, declaring how the man could read Scylla on the spot. She also said how she couldn't find him. Clara had shrugged, not entirely convinced before going into the kitchen and finding a bottle of water from the fridge, sipping on it and perching on the bar stool. It didn't take long before Self and Bagwell returned, complaining that they hadn't found anything.

"Listen, Linc," Self said. "We were having a conversation and we were thinking that you're not up for being in charge."

"Oh shut up," Clara complained, slipping from the stool and standing on the ground as she moved over to Self. "So, who is in charge, you? Yeah, because you're really someone who can lead."

"Want to put yourself forwards, little miss teacher?"

"I couldn't do any worse than you," Clara replied. "Besides, if this is a vote then you've only got two votes which isn't a majority. Did they not teach you math at the Academy or were you too busy learning how to stab people in the back?"

"I do like her," Bagwell said and Clara glowered to him.

"I've warned you," Lincoln said.

But before the argument could continue they heard the door move open. Pulling out their guns, Self, Lincoln and Bagwell stood in a line, aiming them at the door. Clara said nothing, keeping still before moving behind Lincoln. But then the figure made his appearance known and her eyes widened at the sight of who it was. Holding onto a duffel bag, he looked between them all before speaking.

"This a bad time?" he wondered.

Moving over to him, Clara didn't care who was watching as she moved with haste and he looked to her. He let his eyes roam over her before he dropped his bag and held his arms open, welcoming her into them as Lincoln watched on, noticing how Alex moved his hand to hold the back of her head, pressing her forehead against his shoulder as he let out a breath in relief at the feeling of her in his arms.

"I think it's a pretty good time," Lincoln answered, meeting Alex's gaze as they exchanged a nod between each other and then Lincoln demanded they get back to work, leaving Alex and Clara alone.

Moving with her, he kept her in his arms as he tugged her around the corner by the door, finally being able to press his lips to hers, kissing her as he pressed her against the wall, his lips moving over hers as her hands found the back of his head, her fingers twisting into his hair.

"I came here to help," Clara said when he pulled back and she felt as though she should explain herself to him. "I wanted to find Scylla…take it away…and free you."

"I know," Alex whispered, stroking her face.

"But what happened?" Clara wondered.

"I escaped," Alex said. "Lang let me go and I escaped. I…I went to the college where you work but they said you weren't working. I think you might be sacked, by the way."

"Meh," Clara shrugged.

"So I…I might have called Krantz and asked where Lincoln was, but he told me you were with him. I came as soon as I could."

"Thank God," Clara mumbled, bowing her head and resting her forehead on his chest. "I feel so out of place and I can't trust anyone…but I was going to do it for you…to help you."

"I know," Alex said, moving to kiss her once more. "But I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere. We're going to finish this and we're going to go…leave here and leave it all behind. You and me."

Nodding, Clara agreed with that, hand on his cheek before kissing him again.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think!


	34. Chapter 34

Alex sat down on the sofa next to Clara, listening in as Lincoln described what they were doing. He had managed to get the general gist of the conversation. Apparently they had tracked a man who had stolen the card out to Miami. T-Bag, Gretchen and Self were on the team too. All of them had to get Scylla back for the General. Alex had looked over to Clara as soon as he had heard the General being mentioned, but she was stoic, her gaze remaining on the coffee table in front of her.

They had found the man's girlfriend but she had set them up. They'd done more digging on her, Gretchen perched with the laptop on her knees as she typed furiously. They had managed to deduce where she lived and where she worked, alongside breaking into her bank details.

"She went to someplace called the Pelican Club," Gretchen said, slipping the laptop down onto the table as Alex leant forwards to look at it.

"After lunch," he confirmed, looking at the details. "And then she went to the gift shop."

"So she was near the marina?" Clara wondered as Lincoln sat down beside her and Gretchen stood up, moving to perch on the back of the sofa. Alex laced his fingers together, holding them to his chin.

"So he lives there?" Bagwell wondered.

"Or it's an inside job," Gretchen said and Lincoln almost rolled his eyes at her conspiracy theory, tiring of hearing about it. "If he's working with someone from The Company then they wouldn't want to be on a flight list. They're trying to get Scylla out of the country, but they're trying to do it by boat."

"Then we go to the marina," Gretchen said.

Shutting the lid of the laptop, Alex stood up as Clara did the same. Looking down to her, Alex knew that he needed to talk to her in private about all of this, but he suspected now wasn't the time, despite the fact that he had a lot of questions. Namely he wanted to know what she was thinking. He suspected there was a lot going on inside of her mind.

…

Walking onto the marina, Clara kept her sunglasses over her eyes, letting them cover her up. She loitered by the back with Alex as they saw the office in front of them and Self was the one to take control.

"I've got this," Self said. "Alex, come on."

Moving off, Alex followed Self while Clara waited outside with the rest of them. Looking to Lincoln, she spoke in a hushed tone as Bagwell and Gretchen wandered off, walking around the area and looking around.

"Self's getting too big for his boots," Clara said, recalling the conversation they had been having before Alex had walked in. "You know he's not going to give it up. As soon as he gets his hand on Scylla then who is to say that he won't try to steal it again?"

"No one," Lincoln said. "That's why I'm keeping a close eye on him."

"Or we could shoot him?" Clara muttered and Lincoln raised an amused brow as she folded her arms over her chest and looked around, shrugging as she made the motion. "Hey, I don't like killing, but the guy is a pain in the ass."

"I can agree with you on that one," Lincoln said.

Waiting quietly, Self came out, flashing his badge as he waved his hand at them to follow him. Catching Alex's eye before he put his sunglasses on, he shook his head and shot Clara a look that said don't ask. She chuckled lowly before following them, heading towards the wooden walkway where people were stood, waiting to get onto the boat.

"What's going on?" Clara wondered from Alex as they remained behind everyone.

"Self's managed to persuade the man we need to do a luggage search. Either that or we shut his business down while we do checks," Alex said. "He preferred the first option. Problem is the boat that we need has already docked…"

Trailing off, Alex looked into the distance, eyes narrowed as he saw a young man in a green jacket, a backpack resting on his back. Following his gaze, Clara wondered what was happening before she felt Alex press a hand to her arm.

"Wait here," he said.

She didn't have a chance to ask what he was doing before he took off, ducking under the barrier and onto the walkway, chasing after the boy who had moved. He was running away and Clara wondered what was going on. She had seen him and he didn't look as though he would have Scylla. He was too weedy. Then again, that was a good ploy.

Clara remained where she was as she heard Gretchen's voice enter her ears. "Your boyfriend wastes no time, huh?" she said. "He's been here ten minutes and he's already chasing the bad guys. Of course, I could have saved him the time and told him that the kid he went after was probably running because he had some weed in his bag."

"How would you know that?" Clara enquired, voice harsh as she tried to make it clear that she wanted nothing to do with Gretchen.

"Because I'm not an idiot," Gretchen said.

"Never said you were," Clara responded. "Anyway, shouldn't we keep on searching the bags?"

"Guess so," Gretchen said, an amused tone to her voice as she watched Clara, knowing exactly what the woman was thinking. She didn't want to be here or doing this. That's why Gretchen knew she would double cross them one day. And when that day came, Gretchen would make sure she was on her side.

…

Sitting in the living room and watching the CCTV footage seemed fruitless. They had been at the marina for over an hour, searching every bag, and they had found nothing. Clara was on the couch, looking at the screen playing the camera footage while Bagwell and Self stood in front of her, pacing while Gretchen sat at the glass table, working on the laptop.

"Well maybe it was already on the boat?" Bagwell asked. "If they didn't want their name on a flight list then maybe they-"

Clara stood up and wandered off, tired of listening to their theories. She would pay attention when they had something solid. She had seen Alex and Lincoln talking to each other by the kitchen and she wandered off towards the balcony, stepping outside and overlooking the water. She didn't know how much longer went by before she felt a hand on her back.

"You know," he said, his voice soft and low, "I'm not really sure why we're still here."

Looking up to him, she shrugged her shoulders. "We're here because The Company want Scylla," Clara said and Alex looked to her, noticing the look on her face and he shook his head at her, speaking in a hushed tone.

"You're not here for them."

"No," Clara answered. "Initially I came here to help exonerate you, but you decided to do a runner."

"So why are you still here?" Alex enquired. "You know that Lincoln isn't going to stop, don't you? I was just talking to him and he's not like Michael. His intentions aren't noble…he isn't going to try and put Scylla in the right hands."

"Yeah, well," Clara said in a drawl, "Lincoln can't always get what he wants."

He didn't have a chance to say anything further as Self exclaimed that they had a hit on the woman. Moving back inside, Alex watched her go, letting out a deep sigh as he saw her leave. But he had no idea that Bagwell had been listening in on their every word.

…

Clara wasn't surprised to find that Gretchen had gone off on her own to speak to the man with Scylla. Scott Carruth. She had returned to the apartment after meeting with him, telling them who the buyer of Scylla was. Some guy called Wilcott. But Alex knew better than to trust anything Gretchen said. He didn't trust her at all.

"So we're going to believe this?" Clara wondered from Alex as they climbed into a car in the garage. "I mean, it's ridiculous. Gretchen wanders off and now we are following her to where she thinks Scylla might be."

"I don't trust anything Gretchen says," Alex said. "Then again, I don't trust anything most people say. Listen, I know that you've probably got a lot of stuff going on in your mind right now, Clara."

Scoffing, Clara watched out the window. They were following Lincoln, Gretchen, Bagwell and Self, not all of them able to fit into one vehicle. Alex let out a deep breath before looking over to her, seeing how she had bags under her eyes and how her face was scrunched up in a constant state of worry.

"We're going to talk about this," he told her. "Tonight…we're going out and we're going to talk about this where no one can hear us or spy on us, you got it?"

"Doesn't sound like I have a choice," Clara said, frowning to him as he followed the car in front.

"Not really," he agreed with her.

They drove in silence, pulling onto a rooftop car park. The other four were already outside the vehicle, looking at a building across the car park. Approaching them, Clara dropped her hands to her hips, looking at the building as she dropped her hands to her hips.

"He has the entire top floor rented out," Gretchen said.

"So he works for The Company and picked an entire floor made from glass," Alex mused, knowing then and there that Gretchen was playing them.

It was only when the sound of a click entered his ear did he turn around, looking at the men advancing towards them. Rolling her eyes, Clara looked to Gretchen as Carruth moved towards them, his men behind him with their guns in their hands. But then Clara knew what Gretchen was going to do. She couldn't beat her to it, instead Gretchen pulled her gun out and managed to hit Clara across the face, watching her stumble to the side as Alex moved then, grabbing hold of her.

"You bitch," Clara snapped at her.

Aiming the gun at Self, they all looked at her. But none of them looked shocked. Instead there was just anger there. Moving to hold her stinging cheek, Clara kept her fingers lightly on it as Alex looked at the unfolding situation.

But then Gretchen shot. Aiming the gun in the direction of Carruth's men, she fired, not once flinching as she pulled the trigger. Two bodies fell to the floor, leaving Carruth. Moving to him, Lincoln stood before him.

"Where's Scylla?"

"I can get it," Carruth informed him.

"I'm hoping you can," Lincoln said. "So where is it?"

"My buy-"

"-He can't get you Scylla," Alex interrupted. "It's gone."

Carruth nodded. "He's right," he said. "So right now there's only one thing on my mind-"

He was cut off by the noise of gunfire and Clara wondered what the hell happened. Alex had pulled his gun out, firing it at the man stood across from them as he fired his own gun. Looking around, she felt relief when she saw Alex was fine, still stood with his gun aimed at Carruth.

But Gretchen was on the floor, holding onto her side. Alex wasted no time, moving over to Gretchen and bending over her body.

"Wilcott, the building?" Alex asked from her and Gretchen took a deep breath, panting as she felt the pain from being shot.

"Made it up," she said.

"So you have no idea who he's working for?" Alex said and her shake of her head confirmed that.

Standing up straight, Alex watched as Lincoln moved over to them, his gun aimed at her. Self began shouting at Lincoln, demanding for him to shoot her. She protested, telling them how she would never have shot them. Self kept on talking, his voice loud and pretentious before Bagwell butted in.

"She has a kid," he said. "Her name is Emily and she is eight years old…come on…"

Closing her eyes, Clara looked away. Gretchen might have been a terrible human, but that didn't mean that she was a lousy mother. She had to love her daughter. Clara knew what it felt like to lose a parent and if this Emily was only a kid then she didn't deserve to experience that.

"Let her be," Clara said, going into the pocket of her jacket and pulling out a cell.

"What are you doing?" Self demanded from her.

"Calling her an ambulance," Clara said.

"Why the hell would you do that?" Self asked.

"Because she has a kid and I am not him…I am nothing like him…" Clara said and Alex understood she meant her uncle as she dialled for an ambulance and wandered off, making the phone call while Alex looked to Lincoln, moving his hand to stretch outwards.

"We're not them," he told him.

Lincoln seemed to accept that and he pulled the gun away. Clara moved back and knelt by Gretchen's side, watching as she clutched her torso. But the woman shook her head at her as Clara shrugged her jacket from her shoulders and forced it into a ball, pressing it down against her side.

"You need to go," Gretchen said. "If you stay here…"

"Don't act concerned for me," Clara complained as Self and Bagwell jumped into a car. Clara remained seated on the ground, her legs bent underneath her. "Just stay still."

"Clara, we need to go," Alex demanded from her and she shook her head at him.

"Not until the ambulance arrives."

"If you're here when it gets here then the police will drag you off," Gretchen said to her. "Now get out of here and make that bastard suffer for everything he's done. Do you understand me?"

Clara seemed to understand and Alex grabbed her by the arms, pulling her up. She said nothing as she left her jacket, pulling everything from its pockets before standing and walking away, the sound of sirens entering her ears. She was about to turn around and go back, unable to walk off. But Alex was pretty strong, dragging her back to the car without much effort.

Looking over her shoulder one last time, Clara wondered just who Gretchen truly was.

…

Sitting on a bench, Clara could hear the sound of traffic behind her while in front there was a large pathway, people walking up and down it, conversing and laughing. Some walked dogs while others were cycling and some running. The sun was slowly setting down over the coastline and Clara could see some people on the small beach, practicing yoga with a teacher.

Returning to the bench with a box in his fingertips, Alex sat down next to Clara. She moved awkwardly, sitting upright while Alex placed the box between them. Opening it up to reveal the large pizza, he picked a slice up and chewed on it. Clara did the same and Alex let out a deep sigh after they had both finished the first slice.

"What's going on, Clara?" Alex asked of her. "You've been on edge all day. Just talk to me."

"I don't know what to say," Clara informed him. "I came out here with the intention of finishing what we started. I thought that if we could get Scylla and give it to Homeland…the FBI…someone we could trust, then I could help exonerate you, like the original plan."

Clara picked up another slice of pizza. "Anyway, Linc picked me up and he told me everything. He told me about how Michael had needed medical treatment straight away and the only way to get it was through him…the bastard had picked him up and wasn't letting him go…I get that Lincoln had no choice. I know that."

"But?"

"But it's wrong," Clara protested, dropping the pizza into the box and suddenly losing her appetite for food as she looked to Alex, a gaze of desperation in her eyes as Alex watched her. "What we are doing is wrong and I can't let him do it, Alex. I can't let him hand Scylla back to my uncle…let him get away with this…but I know my uncle. He's not going to let us get Scylla and take it from him. He knows exactly what buttons to press…LJ…Sofia…Pam…he'd kill them all if we tried to betray him. But how can I live with myself if I give it to him? My parents…what would they think?"

"Hey," Alex said in a whisper, moving the pizza box to the other side of him before he dared to move, wrapping his arms around her as she took hold of his waist, her forehead pressing to his neck. "Your parents would not be ashamed of you."

"My mom died for this," Clara reminded him. "My mom and my dad…I just can't let him get away with this, but I can't think of anything to do to stop him. I don't have a cunning plan for everyone to win. I don't know what to do, Alex."

"We'll think of something," Alex promised her, trying to keep her calm as he moved a hand down her arm, stroking it softly as he heard her let out a deep breath, exhaling shakily. "We'll think of how to get away with this."

"I hope so," Clara whispered to him and Alex bent down, his chin coming to rest on the top of her head.

"I came here for you," Alex told her simply, "but if you want out-"

"-There's no out now," Clara interrupted him. "If my uncle knows you're here then he won't let you out. We both know that. Besides, I can't run. I need to do this and find out how to beat him. I can't keep running…we can get through this."

"With those inside of that apartment?" Alex wondered from her. "Because Self and Bagwell are in this for themselves. We both know that."

"Yeah," she agreed, "but Lincoln is keeping a close eye on them and without Gretchen then the gang has been broken up. However, Bagwell…I don't particularly enjoy being around a man who raped and murdered people for fun. I mean, the idea of sleeping down the hall from him."

"I doubt he would do anything," Alex assured her.

"I know," Clara said, "but still…not a pleasant thought."

"Then I'll stay in your room," Alex said, his voice nonchalant. "There's a sofa. I'm fine there if it makes you feel any better?"

"Or," Clara said, testing the waters, "you could just share the bed with me. It is a king size and holds two people easily. Besides, I'd say we're easily in a stage of our relationship where we can get away with it. You don't need to worry, I haven't been the college slut in years."

Alex winced at hearing her speak of herself in such a manner. Squeezing her shoulders tightly, he agreed with her, nodding his head as he moved an arm over his body to her face, holding her cheek softly as his fingertips moved into her hair.

"I doubt you were a…well…promiscuous."

"Yeah, well, you didn't know me back then," Clara whispered. "It was more a case of just…well…I don't know. College was a phase."

Alex chuckled. "I can imagine," he said to her, "but we'll be fine, Clara. Come on, let's finish this and we can go back and sleep. See what tomorrow has in store."

Leaning over his body, Clara flipped the lid to the box open and grabbed another slice. "Can't wait," she said with sarcasm.

…

Clara had changed into her pyjamas, the bottoms low on her hips while her vest top sat high on her neck. She was sat on the bed, hand holding a towel as she dried her hair off to make sure it wasn't dripping. Alex was closing the curtains, dressed in a pair of green and white plaid bottoms with a long green top. His hair had dried in less than half an hour following his shower. He had shut the bedroom door, locking it before going to sit on the other side of the bed to Clara.

"Humour me," Clara urged him, folding her legs underneath her body. "What did Wheeler's face look like when you escaped?"

Alex let himself chuckle, pushing the plump duvet off the bed so that he could climb into it. He picked up his glasses from the bedside table, perching them on the end of his nose as he spoke to her and grabbed the folder that had been underneath his glasses.

"He was pretty pissed," Alex admitted to her. "I demanded a bathroom break and managed to pull a pipe from the sink. So, when we were back on the road I smashed the window and opened the door from the outside. Lang…she chased me…and she got me…I just…I know she was doing the right thing. I get that. But she lied to me and that hurts."

"I'm sure she was only doing it to protect you," Clara said. "I know I don't know her as well as you do, but she didn't come across like Wheeler. I think she genuinely cares."

Uncurling herself from her position on the bed, Clara moved to the en-suite, hanging the towel over the radiator as Alex spoke.

"Maybe I'll get a chance to make amends when this is over," he said.

"Hopefully," Clara managed to agree, picking up her toothbrush and squirting toothpaste onto it, brushing her teeth quickly.

Alex read the file on Carruth, wondering if he could find anything on the man that might help them. But he wasn't entirely focused. Instead he was looking over to Clara through the doorway, noticing the way she paced up and down while brushing her teeth. Keeping his eyes on her, he moved a hand to his nose, scratching it as he saw her let the brush dangle in her mouth for a second, her eyes set on the mirror as she prodded her chin, her fingers pulling at the skin.

She had her eyes narrowed and Alex wondered what she was doing before he saw her reach into a toiletry bag, rummaging around it as she kept her toothbrush between her teeth. Grabbing hold of a bottle, she squeezed on it and rubbed some cream onto her chin. Alex remained intrigue, every movement she made seemingly beguiling to him.

Spitting into the sink, she pulled her hair over her shoulders and tugged the elastic bobble from her wrist, securing her hair behind her back before leaving the bathroom. Turning the light out, she padded slowly towards her side of the bed, yanking the duvet down and climbing into the bed.

"Did you know?" Clara suddenly asked from him. "When Wheeler was supposed to be taking you to the airport, did you know he was lying?"

"I knew as soon as he was arguing with Lang," Alex confirmed.

Laying her head on the pillow, she rolled over onto her side, facing him as she stuffed a hand under it. "You didn't say anything to me."

"You couldn't have done anything," Alex said, "and I didn't want to give Wheeler the satisfaction of seeing you yell at him."

"But if you knew-"

"-I didn't want to see you upset," he interrupted. "I kept it from you because I thought that would be for the best. I don't know if I made the right call. I doubt it, but I…I'd put you through enough and at the time I thought it was the right thing to do."

Nodding slowly, Clara seemed to understand as Alex tossed the file onto the table, his glasses soon following. He lay down on his back, turning his head to the side to watch her.

"Get some sleep," he urged in a soft tone. "We have all of tomorrow to worry about what we need to do."

"I know," Clara told him. "But…you know I'm glad, don't you? That you're here. You could have gone…ran off…"

"And why would I do that?" Alex enquired from her, moving out to let his hand go to her shoulder, holding it loosely as she seemed to shift closer towards him, but Alex didn't mind.

He met her halfway, moving his arm to rest underneath the pillows as he felt her hand go to rest on top of his arm, holding it loosely in her fingertips. She closed her eyes as Alex watched her for a few minutes, confident that she was on the verge of sleep. He closed his own eyes then, his mind still on what they were going to do. He didn't even know. He knew that he soon had to find out, though.


	35. Chapter 35

Alex awoke in the morning, wondering when he had last slept on a proper bed instead of those camp beds in the warehouse. He hadn't slept peacefully in such a long time that he was shocked when he awoke, the sunlight already streaming in through the curtains. He closed his eyes once more, wondering if he could get away with another hour of sleep, but a familiar smell entered his nostrils.

Sniffing loudly, Alex peeled his eyes open then, seeing the cup of coffee on the bedside table, sat on a coaster. The white mug had steam emerging from it, letting him know that it was freshly made.

"Don't worry, I didn't spike it with sugar," Clara's voice drifted into his ears and he slowly moved, pushing himself onto his elbows, turning his head to look to her.

She was sat up, the cushions plumped up against the wooden headboard. She had her cup of coffee in her fingers, her legs bent and a piece of paper sat against her limbs. She had stolen his glasses, letting them perch on her nose as she looked down at the paper.

"What you reading?" Alex muttered, still feeling groggy as he managed to reach one arm over his body, grabbing the cup by the handle and pulling it towards him, sipping on it as he pushed his body further up to rest against the headboard.

"Nothing really," Clara said. "Just a news article about Gretchen being found…she didn't say anything about us…I don't know. I know she's a bad person, but she has a daughter. Why did she not try to turn away from this life for her daughter?"

Shrugging, Alex sipped on the coffee once more. "Maybe she tried?" he said. "I don't know, Clara. We never really knew her. She isn't worth your time."

"I know," Clara said, moving to push the paper onto the floor. "Anyway, how did you sleep?"

"Pretty well," Alex responded to her with a nod. "I haven't slept on a mattress this comfortable in a very long time. Do you think I can manage to stay here all day?"

Clara let out a small laugh before taking a drink. "I doubt it," she informed him. "We should get up soon. Lincoln wants us back out there and hunting down whoever has Scylla. I don't know, Alex. The closer we get the more I keep freaking out."

Shaking his head at her, Alex let him move a hand to rest on top of her knee that was covered by the duvet. Looking over to him, she managed a small smile as Alex placed his mug down on the bedside table. Shifting closer to her, he dared to wrap his arm around her shoulders, holding her to him while she wrapped both her hands around her mug, moving her head to rest just in between his shoulder and neck.

"I don't want anyone to get hurt," Clara whispered. "Can you just promise me that? Just promise me that…whatever happens…we're doing it to keep people safe. Okay?"

"That's all we have ever done," Alex responded in a whisper. "Come on, Clara. Let's just worry about that when we have what we need. For now, let's just concentrate on getting Scylla back."

"I can do that," Clara nodded at him, moving a hand to rest on his thigh. "Let the day begin."

…

Clara seemed to find that her appetite had left her whenever she was in the company of Don and Bagwell. She had perched at the breakfast bar with Alex next to her, his hand holding the back of her seat as he watched her pick at the toast on the plate in front of her.

"Y'know," Bagwell began and Clara almost looked at him to glower, but everyone remained silent, focused on sitting around the breakfast bar and eating their toast. "I'd bet there's a good story behind how you two got together. The FBI agent and the lecturer."

"Sounds like a bad porno," Self scoffed and Clara slipped from the stool.

"I'd guess you'd know all about those," she responded.

"Why don't you two just mind your own business?" Alex wondered, sipping on his coffee before following after her.

She went into the living room as Lincoln entered, a stack of brown envelopes in his fingertips. Motioning to them with her chin, Clara looked to Lincoln. "What are they?" she wondered.

"Don't know," Lincoln said, "but there's one for each of us."

Handing them out, Clara took hers and peeled the lid, lifting the paper out slowly. Looking to it, she let her brow furrow as she saw the photograph. Pushing it back inside, she heard Alex open us and react with anger, hitting the pillar with it. She knew instantly who he had a photograph of.

"If they touch my momma I'll end their lives," Bagwell said once he had seen his.

"LJ," Lincoln mumbled his son's name.

"So he is threatening us?" Clara wondered. "I don't think we're working for them. Give me your phone. I want to call him. I need to call him."

"No," Lincoln said, holding his hand up to stop her from coming closer to him. Looking to her, he pulled his cell out. "I'll talk to him. I'll be more level headed than you."

"I can be level headed," Clara protested. "So just pass me the phone and I will talk to him."

"No," Lincoln said, his tone harsher this time as he spoke to her. Placing the phone against his ear, he told the General how they had found a set of keys on the man they had killed yesterday. They also told him how they didn't appreciate being threatened, but he didn't seem concerned.

"He wants to talk to you," Lincoln gave in and handed her the cell.

Taking it, Clara kept her grip on the envelope as she moved through the living room and the men watched her go, her strides harsh and determined a as she moved to the balcony, her voice full of anger as she spoke.

"I swear to God if you lay a finger on him I will kill you myself," Clara snarled as she heard her uncle chuckle at her tone.

"First we threatened you with Tom and now Alex. You need to stay away from men, Clara, they do nothing but cause you trouble," he informed her as she held the envelope tight to her chest, unable to comprehend the man whose photo was inside of it being hurt.

Gulping, Clara looked over the sea. "What do you want?"

"I want to know exactly what you are doing," Jonathan demanded from her. "I know why you initially went to find Scylla. You thought it would help Mr. Mahone, but now Mr. Mahone is working for me, that is unless he would like to bury his ex-wife alongside his son."

"You sick bastard," Clara whispered, her breath taken away by his cruel and callous words.

"I know you have no intention of working for me," Krantz continued. "You were going to betray me. I hope that photo in there makes you think differently. It seems you and Mr. Scofield are both idealists."

"What about Michael?" Clara wondered. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing that I wanted to do," the General seemed to complain and Clara felt her eyes flitter around as her stomach churned, wondering what the hell that meant. "He's on the run. His brother knows and I have warned him to find Scylla before Michael. However, know this, Clara, if I get a whiff of you deciding to help the wrong brother, I won't hesitate to put a bullet through Alexander Mahone's head."

"Stay away from me," Clara demanded, hanging up the phone and bowing her head, her hands grabbing hold of the railing in front of her.

Closing her eyes, she barely felt him come up behind her. But as soon as she felt his presence, she turned around, pressing herself to him as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Snaking a hand up to cup the back of her head, he moved to kiss her on the forehead, the motion tender as she did her best not to think of what her uncle had just said.

"Any point in asking whose photo is in that envelope?" he wondered from her and she shook her head at him.

"I won't let him," Clara said, her voice full of determination. "He…"

Trailing off, Alex let his fingers grip her hair as he tried to soothe her, feeling her body shake against his as he kept his grip tight and firm around her. She had her eyes closed as she burrowed her cheek against his chest, feeling his warm skin from where his buttons were left open.

"It was normal," Clara suddenly whispered. "Getting up this morning…making coffee…and bringing it to you…it was the most normal thing we have done in a long time and for a moment I forgot about everything."

"I know," was all that he could say to her, bending down to kiss her forehead once more, his lips lingering there as he felt her hands leave his waist and she stood up straight, pulling herself together.

"So I need to do this…because I want that feeling," she said to him. "And I want to be with you…despite everything…"

Watching her walk back into the kitchen, Alex remained on the balcony as he observed her hand the phone back to Lincoln and then toss the envelope into the bin. Wiping her eyes with her fingers, she sniffed once and then perched on the bar stool, opening the laptop and looking to the keys they had found the previous day.

Alex went back in there, hands on his hips and pushing back the black suit jacket he wore over a white shirt. Standing behind her, he moved one hand to hold the back of the chair as he watched her set to work, looking to the keys that they had found.

"Do you have your glasses?" Clara wondered from him, holding her hand out and Alex took his glasses from his pocket, handing them to her.

"Where are yours?"

"Lost them," she muttered, slipping his spectacles onto her eyes again before going back to searching the computer.

"D'you know something, Don?" Bagwell spoke, breaking the silence as Don and Lincoln sat besides Clara at the breakfast bar. "You're pretty calm over there. Little Miss Perfect at the end freaked out, but you? You're as cool as a cucumber."

"I did not freak out," Clara muttered, but no one paid her any attention.

"I'm just a calm person," Don mumbled.

"But who was the photo of?" Bagwell pushed.

"None of your business," Don snapped before Clara stumbled across something.

"Hold-Secure," she said, reading from the screen, squinting as she looked behind her and saw that Alex was looking with intrigue. Passing him his glasses back, she let him read this time. Letting him move to read over her shoulder, he looked to the screen and spoke.

"That is the company that made those keys," Alex continued. "Each key has a chip inside of it which sends out a signal to open its lock."

"So it's basically a fancy key?" Lincoln checked and Clara shrugged.

"Yeah," Clara responded. "Every key opens a lock."

"But you can get keys cut," Alex said, reaching for the ones they had on the table. "These ones you can't replicate."

"Fancy," Bagwell muttered.

"So do you think they will have some kind of database?" Clara wondered as Lincoln pushed himself to his feet and moved to peer at the laptop. "I mean, it's pretty techy, right?"

"I'd say so," Alex nodded. "Is there a contact number for them?"

"You've got the glasses," she reminded him.

Instead of handing them back to her, he moved his arms around her, typing on the keyboard as his chest pressed against her back. She leant back slightly, her head coming to his shoulder as Alex looked on the website, searching for a number.

"You know, that's pretty distracting," Alex muttered as he felt her hair tickle against his neck.

"Deal with it," she muttered and Alex chuckled, moving quickly to kiss her on the side of the head as he kept on working and finally found a number.

"Write it down," Clara told him. "I'll give them a call."

Alex did as he was told, scribbling the number down on a piece of paper before Clara slipped off the stool and wandered into the office area, picking up the phone and dialling. Alex watched her for a few minutes, hearing her laugh and use her charm that she no doubt developed from her time as an investigative journalist.

She came back out after a few minutes, writing on post-it notes as she wandered back through to the living room. "So, one is for some place in Little Havana and the other one is by the marina. So how do you want to split this?"

"Bagwell and Self can go to Little Havana. Me and Linc can take the marina," Alex said, leaving no room for complaint as Clara handed Bagwell the address for Little Havana.

"And me?" Clara asked from Alex. "You know, when you make all of these plans I never really equate into them."

Moving to take hold of her by the elbow, Alex steered her outside, almost letting out an annoyed expression. She followed him to the balcony and he spoke to her in a hushed tone, voice low as he looked inside and saw Self and Bagwell leave while Lincoln remained occupied on his cell, his voice harsh as he spoke to Michael.

"I need you to find out what Michael is planning," Alex whispered to her.

"Why?"

"Because you're right," Alex told her. "We can't give Scylla back to The Company. I heard Lincoln on the phone earlier. I get the feeling Michael isn't with the General."

"You would be correct," Clara said. "But how am I supposed to reach him?"

"I'll distract Lincoln for a minute. I need you to get his number and call him," Alex said to her. "I know you, Clara. You need this. You need to do the right thing and the right thing is bringing Krantz down."

"Thank you," Clara said with haste, moving to swiftly kiss him before going back into the living room where Lincoln had hung up his call.

"You ready?" Lincoln wondered.

"Yeah," Alex nodded.

"Before you go," Clara said moving quickly, "can I just borrow your cell? I want my uncle's number because…because I think I said some things on the phone earlier that I need to take back. Things about…just…I get it, okay? I'm on board with this because he threatened to kill Alex and I just need him to know I understand."

Alex shrugged at that. "Not going to argue if she wants to save my life," he informed Lincoln who nodded.

Passing Clara his phone, he watched her go and stand by the table, scribbling down numbers. But she didn't take note of the General's number when she came to recent calls. She scribbled down the number Michael had used to call him. Handing him the cell back, she shot Alex a nod before the two men left the apartment.

Once she was sure they had gone, she took the paper into the study, closing the door behind her. Settling behind the big desk, she took a deep breath before calling the number. It took a few moments before he answered.

"Hello?"

"Michael, it's me, Clara," she said with haste.

"Clara, what are you doing? I thought you were with Lincoln?"

"I am," Clara said, "but I can't do this, Michael. I know you and I know you don't want The Company to have Scylla, but it's more complicated than that. He's threatened everyone's loved ones…Alex…LJ…"

"There has to be another way," Michael told her. "Your uncle had me held in a remote location. According to Sara he was trying to brainwash me to join them. Your cousin, Lisa, she told Sara where I was. Apparently she has defected."

Clara blinked profusely then, wondering if that was true. She didn't question it. Instead she just wondered what that meant. Could they trust Lisa? Clara didn't dwell on it, wondering if she could call her cousin and find out the truth.

"But you got out?" Clara checked.

"Just," Michael responded. "But the General now wants me dead."

"So what are you doing?" Clara enquired from him.

"Sara and I are on the way to Miami," Michael said. "We're going to find Scylla and do the right thing. Krantz can't win…but I think this is bigger than that. My mother…she's alive and I think she is something to do with The Company."

Again, Michael shocked Clara. "But Alex said your mom had died?"

"I thought so too, but apparently not," Michael said. "But I need more information. Is there any chance you can dig deeper? Find out anything about her in The Company?"

"I can try," Clara said, "but I think the laptop is from The Company so they'll be tracking it. I…maybe Lisa…I don't know, Michael. I can't promise you anything, but I'll do my best."

"That's all I can ask," Michael said.

"Yeah," Clara nodded her head. "But I just needed to call you to find out what you had planned. Alex and I…we're with you, you know? We'll help you when the time comes to it."

"Thank you," Michael said, sounding sincere. "Keep this number on you and call me tomorrow. For now, we're about to hitch a ride to Dallas. Hopefully we will be in Miami soon."

"Got it," Clara nodded. "Take care, Michael."

"You too."

…

Alex didn't know what to say Lincoln when they returned and the apartment was empty. Alex had no idea where Clara had gotten to. He shrugged, saying that she must have gone for a walk to clear her head. Lincoln didn't seem too concerned, more intrigued by the picture they had found in the house they had been to by the marina.

It had been left for them there and Alex had a sneaky suspicion that Lincoln knew his mother really was not dead. The photo had been left on purpose and it had been left for Lincoln.

"The car in the picture has Florida plates," Alex informed Lincoln as he paced behind the curved sofa Lincoln sat on. "Did you ever go to Florida?"

"No," Lincoln said.

"Know anyone from Florida."

"No," Lincoln said, taking the photo back from Mahone. "The photo has been doctored. The car is a '78 reg. Michael was born in '76."

Alex let it dawn on him then and he moved around the sofa and sat back down by Lincoln's side, pointing to him intensely as he looked to the photo again. "Then she altered the photo just for you," he muttered. "We need to find out what else she has changed. The license plate will be a good place to start."

Reading the plate out, Lincoln watched Alex type it into the search engine of the laptop before he came up with an address in Miami.

"You guys are back!" Self's voice called out and Alex looked over to them.

"We have a lead on the buyer," Alex informed them.

"Where's your pretty little girlfriend?" Bagwell wondered.

"Out," Alex answered simply, having no intention of discussing Clara with anyone.

"Listen, we need some more man power down in Little Havana. Whatever is cooking up down there ain't good."

"I'll come," Alex said, looking to Lincoln. "You going to be alright?"

"Yeah," Lincoln nodded at Alex. "I can do this myself."

As everyone continued to argue about how they should stick together. But then Alex had told Self and Bagwell that Lincoln's mother was a company agent. Lincoln insisted that his mother must have defected, but Alex didn't know if that was necessarily true. Then again, Alex didn't trust anyone.

…

Clara sat in the booth of the sushi restaurant, waiting with patience for her cousin to make herself known. She'd ordered a bottle of wine and three dishes before Lisa had walked in. Dressed in a pencil skirt and white blouse, she moved over to the booth, her large gold necklace shimmering in the light.

Looking to Clara, she saw how her cousin was still cold. "I've left," she said in a simple voice. "I…I found out what he did to your parents…and…I should have gone before, Clara. I should have gone when I found out what he had done to you."

"I don't want your excuses," Clara said, struggling not to let Lisa's wet eyes get to her. "I want to know what you know about Christina Scofield."

"She's out of the country," Lisa answered, sniffing loudly. "I think she's somewhere in Africa."

"Are you sure?" Clara wondered from her in a small voice, sipping on her wine as the food was served and they went silent for a moment. Clara moved to pour a glass of wine for Lisa who shrugged.

"I'm not sure of anything these days," she admitted to Clara.

"Michael and Lincoln had been told their mother was dead," Clara declared. "So she isn't?"

"No," Lisa said. "Why? What is it that you want to know?"

"I don't know," Clara admitted to Lisa. "And even if I did know, I wouldn't divulge that information with you. Your father is blackmailing us to get Scylla by holding the ones we love at gunpoint. How do I know you're not really spying for him, Lisa?"

"Because I can't," Lisa said, her voice hoarse as she spoke. "I want nothing to do with him anymore. I…I need you to trust me."

Clara went silent for a moment as Lisa reached out, her hand going to Clara's arm and holding it softly. "Please," Lisa said. "Clara, you asked me here for a reason-"

"-To find out about Christina Scofield," Clara interrupted. "There is nothing else that I want to discuss. As far as I am concerned we are finished, Lisa. I wanted you…needed you…when I first came to LA. I needed you and I told you everything. I trusted you and you threw it all back in my face when you picked him over me."

"I'm sorry," Lisa said once again. "Listen, whatever it is you want, I can help you. Christina Scofield…I'll dig…I have access to the files. I can find out more. Just…let me do the right thing for once. Please."

Sipping on her wine once more, Clara placed the glass down and picked up her chopsticks. "You're paying for dinner," was all she said.

Nodding, Lisa dared to let out a breath as she wondered if that was Clara's way of showing her that, maybe, there was a chance. She didn't know. All she knew was that she was relieved her cousin wasn't running away as soon as the conversation had ended.

…

Clara had called Alex from the beachside, asking him to come and meet her. He did as she had asked, the sun slowly setting as he moved down the wooden steps and onto the sand, his feet slipping in it as he made his way over to the wet part, sitting down next to her on the sunbed.

"Tell me what happened," Clara urged from Alex, sunglasses on her eyes as Alex moved his hands behind his back, supporting his weight as he leant back slightly.

"Linc's mother is the buyer," Alex told her. "He went to meet with her while I went with Self and Bagwell to Little Havana. We found weapons…a tonne of weapons and passes."

"For an event in two days?" Clara wondered from him. "Specifically the Progressive Energies Conference?"

Furrowing a brow, Alex looked to her. "I'll bite. How did you know about that?"

"Because I did some digging of my own," she informed Alex. "I met up with Lisa for dinner. She's left The Company, but she did some digging once we left. She spoke to her father and Christina is alive. Running facial recognition, she found out that she was in Miami and registered to attend a conference."

"So that's why you've been all day?" Alex asked of her.

"Were they suspicious?"

"Nah," Alex shrugged. "I told them you would need time to clear your head. I never knew you were this good at spying."

"Do you forget that I was an investigative journalist?" she asked of him in a small voice, her tone demanding as Alex chuckled but let her continue speaking. "Anyway, I don't know what she's up to, but Krantz thinks she's gone rogue and wants Scylla for herself."

"He would be correct," Alex said. "We went back to where Lincoln had gone to meet his mother earlier in the day and there was a sniper. We stopped him before he could do any damage but Christina had sent him there."

"Jesus, were you hurt?" Clara demanded from him, her hands moving to hold onto his shoulders as he shook his head at her. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Because I didn't want you there," Alex responded. "So you're right, Christina Scofield definitely is big trouble."

"Yeah," Clara said, "but I guess you figured all that out for yourself."

"Well," Alex shrugged, "at least we know she has Krantz on the ropes. And Michael? Did you get through to him?"

"Yeah," Clara said. "I called him to tell him what I'd found out. Apparently The Company sent someone after him and Sara but they escaped unharmed. They're on the way to Miami now."

"Good," Alex nodded his head.

"But I feel slightly bad about lying to Lincoln."

"We're not lying," Alex mumbled, "just concealing the truth from him. Besides, if he knew we were taking Michael's side then we'd be left out in the cold. Just don't worry about Lincoln…not right now."

Nodding, Clara moved her hands up and down her arms as the breeze caused a chill. The sleeveless long floral dress she wore whipped around her feet while they both remained perched on the sunbed. The beach was practically empty that evening, but that was for the best.

"We got the guys cell," Alex informed her. "So I've got to head back and look at that."

"Tonight?" Clara asked from him and Alex nodded.

"The sooner the better," he informed her. "But I can have ten minutes to breath. It's been a long day."

"At least you'll sleep well tonight," Clara informed him and Alex chuckled.

"True," he informed her, pulling his suit jacket from his body, moving to drape it over her shoulders. "And you really should have brought a jacket with you."

"It wasn't cold when I left," Clara protested and moved to slip her arms into the sleeves of the jacket, the smell of Alex swarming her as he watched her fold her arms and lean forwards.

"So…Lisa…" Alex broached the subject and Clara shrugged, looking down at the sand as two joggers went by them, laughing about something as they went.

"She's left The Company," Clara informed Alex. "That doesn't mean that I trust her…but…I let her buy me dinner and all she could do was say sorry for what had happened. I listened, but I didn't forgive her. I don't know if I can. I mean, I want to, Alex. I want to forgive her because she's the only family I have."

"Maybe you can trust her?" Alex wondered. "I don't know. It's your call, Clara, but I'd just be careful."

"Yeah," Clara scoffed. "It's hard to trust anyone. I get that."

"There's only one person I trust," Alex informed her. "Clara, I want to keep you safe. You get that, right?"

"Yes," Clara said, "but that doesn't mean that I'm going to sit back and let you keep on risking your life-"

"-No," Alex interrupted her after a moment. "I need you to listen to me, Clara. The envelopes this morning…the photos…I…Pam was one of them, yes…but there was another…it was you…a photo of you…"

Gulping, Clara had to admit she hadn't expected that. Saying nothing for a moment, she was shocked that her uncle had done that to her. Then again, she shouldn't be shocked. The man had proven to be merciless.

"He's not going to get me," Clara whispered to Alex.

"And I'm going to make damn sure of it," his voice was harsh as he responded to her. "Because right now, the thought of being with you…of waking up and having you bring me coffee…reading the newspaper in bed…it's the only thing keeping me going. Do you understand me?" he demanded from her and she moved then, unable to contain herself as her hands gripped his shoulders and she planted her lips firmly on his.

Alex didn't complain, choosing to move one hand to wrap around her waist, his other going to her cheek, fingertips in her hair as she moved with haste, her lips unrelenting as Alex closed his eyes tightly, savouring the feeling before she pulled back, hand slipping to his cheek as her forehead pressed against his. Both of them were silent, breathless, as they clung to each other, knowing that once they returned to the apartment this brief moment of peace they felt would be shattered.

...

A/N: Sorry for not updating sooner, but do let me know what you think!


	36. Chapter 36

Standing behind Alex, Clara kept one hand on the back of his seat while the other rested on her hip, cocking it to the side. She had her eyes closed and her head bowed, sleep slowly taking over. It was almost two in the morning and Alex was still working on trying to get into the sniper's phone and find out who had sent him. He had his glasses on the end of his nose, his eyes focused on the screen before he turned his head over his shoulder to look to Clara.

Her hair dangled in her face as her eyes remained shut, her head bowed. Moving from the chair, Alex slipped an arm around her, startling her awake. She looked around, mouth agape before she let her eyes settle on him. Moving his other arm around her, he let her move her hands to his shoulders as her forehead went to rest on one just beneath his neck.

"Come on," Alex whispered in a small voice to her. "Everyone else has gone to bed. Don't torture yourself."

"I can stay," Clara muttered as he felt her weight increase against him.

A deep chuckle left his lips as he arched a brow, shaking his head back and forth as he watched her. It took another moment before he ran a hand up and down her back as she yawned, her warm breath hitting his bare skin.

"Go to bed," Alex repeated once more. "I'll be there soon. I just need to finish this off."

"Can you not bring it upstairs?" she wondered from him. "At least then you can nap while the programme is running."

The thought did sound quite tempting and before Alex knew it he had bundled the laptop and phone into his arms and was following Clara up the staircase to the landing. Moving to their room, Clara held the door open for him. Alex settled down on the bed, the laptop on his lap as he went back to work, kicking his shoes off and letting them fall on the floor.

Clara went about changing into her pyjamas, brushing her teeth and then finishing off washing her face. Climbing into the bed, she pulled the duvet to her chin as she closed her eyes and moved closer to Alex. Feeling his arm move out to the side, Clara burrowed against his side, one hand coming to rest on top of his torso as he kept his eyes fixed on the screen.

"Now will you go to sleep?" he asked and she chuckled at hearing him.

"I think I can manage that," she whispered against his side.

Alex looked down to her, bending down slightly so that he could kiss the top of her head. Sighing once, he let his eyes move between her and the screen. Closing his eyes for a few brief moments, he felt himself drift off, unable to stop himself as the day's events caught up with him and he felt himself fall to sleep.

…

Clara watched on as she moved down the staircase, looking to the men in the kitchen who were hovering over the laptop. Alex had changed into a clean shirt and trousers, his suit jacket on his shoulders while one hand held a cup of coffee. Clara was still dressed in her pyjamas, her hair askew over the top of her head while her pyjama bottoms hung low on her hips.

"Morning," Lincoln greeted her.

"Morning," she muttered back, going to take the seat next to Alex at the breakfast bar. "What did I miss?"

"Krantz called," Self said. "Apparently he's pissed that we killed the sniper."

"Forget about him," Clara mumbled but Lincoln sighed while T-Bag hovered in the kitchen, one hand on his chin as the other went across his body.

"It isn't that simple," Lincoln said to her. "He asked if we knew who had Scylla. I had to lie to him."

"So?" Clara wondered as Alex passed her his cup of coffee and she sipped on it, the warmth pooling in her stomach.

"So," Bagwell drawled out as he finally came to stand in the group, "we're lying to the man who has our family in the way of danger to protect his mother."

"No," Alex said with a shake of his head. "We're in danger if he finds out that Christina has Scylla. If he knows that then what is to stop him from getting rid of all of us and sending his own people after her? We're just the middlemen. He can't know about her."

"Yeah," Self agreed, looking pointedly to Bagwell. "So keep your mouth shut, got it?"

"Still doesn't mean we're not in danger," Bagwell responded. "Who's to say that he won't find out what we're doing soon enough? You know him. He isn't exactly a man who likes secrets."

"But no one is going to tell him," Clara continued, her protests entering Bagwell's ears as she turned her head over her shoulder to look to him, brow arching as she watched him with intensity. "Unless you intend to turn us in?"

"I may be many things, little miss pretty, but I'm not a snitch."

Self scoffed at that, rolling his eyes as Lincoln ground his teeth together.

"Good," Lincoln said. "Because if we get a whiff of you even betraying us then it will be the last thing you do. You got it?"

"Now, now, Linc," Self said, his tone patronising as he watched Bagwell. "I'm sure he knows not to betray us, don't you, Bagwell?"

Taking a gulp, Bagwell nodded and then wandered off, leaving the four of them in the kitchen. Taking another sip of Alex's coffee, Clara closed her eyes for a moment, still adjusting to the morning brightness as Alex let his eyes move to the side to look to her, a wry smile playing on his lips.

"You alright?" he checked and she nodded her head.

"Fine," she said to him. "What did you find out?"

"Nothing useful," Alex responded. "He's been calling a hell of a lot of blocked numbers. The Company are looking into it as we speak. They're tracing the calls. Hopefully that will give us some leads."

Nodding, Clara agreed with him silently. "I'm going to go and change. Tell me if anything happens."

"Got it," Alex said, watching her slip down the stool, grabbing hold of his coffee. "That's mine." He pointed out to her and she sauntered off, turning her head over her shoulder to shoot him one final look before manoeuvring up the steps and back into the bedroom.

Lincoln watched her go, chuckling at the wry expression on her face as she looked back to Alex. He let his gaze wander back to the former FBI Agent before taking the seat that Clara had left. Alex still had his gaze fixed on her as she wandered along the landing, sipping once more on the drink before disappearing through the door to the bedroom.

"How's she holding up?" Lincoln wondered once Alex was facing the front once more, looking to the computer.

Self went off to find Bagwell, probably to make sure he wasn't going to do anything stupid.

"Well enough," Alex shrugged to Lincoln. "She just wants it all to be over with. You know how it is."

"I know how it is," Lincoln echoed, nodding his head in confirmation before Alex stood up and went to find himself another cup of coffee. "Listen, Alex, I know we haven't always seen eye to eye and there's a reason for that."

"Yeah," Alex agreed with a deep chuckle.

"But she...I know her. She's like Michael. She always wants to do the right thing," Lincoln continued, tugging at the large collar of his white shirt.

Pouring himself a coffee into the white mug, Alex looked at Lincoln over the rim of it as he took a quick gulp. "What you getting at?"

"I want to know if she is planning something for Scylla," Lincoln quickly spoke and Alex shook his head, pretending to look annoyed as he did his best not to let his face give him away. "She would never willingly hand it over to Krantz. I know that."

"Yeah," Alex agreed with him, "but that was before her uncle sent her a photo of me. She doesn't like this, but she's accepting it."

"Really?" Lincoln wondered, not sounding entirely convinced.

"You doubting me, Lincoln?" Alex wondered and Lincoln shook his head.

"For some reason, no," he told Alex. "I'm not doubting you. I know you want this over with as much as I do, but I also know that you and her are close. You'd never betray her trust."

"Then why did you ask me the question in the first place?" Alex wondered from him.

"Because, if she is planning something, then you're the only one she will listen to," Lincoln said.

Alex scoffed again, drinking his coffee. "You don't know Clara very well then," he said. "You see, once she has her mind set on something then she does it. I can't reason with her. I can only talk to her and tell her what I think, but I can't force her to do anything."

"Listen," Lincoln said, tired of being cryptic, "if you know something then you need to tell me, Alex."

"I don't," Alex said, placing his mug down before holding his hands up defensively. "I don't know anything, Linc. I just know that Clara wants this over with. We all do."

Lincoln didn't entirely believe Alex, but he didn't push him any further. Instead he watched him grab hold of his phone and move up the staircase to the bedroom. Alex raked a hand through his hair as he opened the door to the bedroom, but nothing prepared him for the sight he witnessed.

"Alex!" she shrieked loudly as soon as she saw him enter the room.

Moving his hands to cover his eyes, he backed out of the doorway, the image of her in nothing but her underwear still scorched into his brain as he bit down on his tongue. She had moved her hands to grab hold of her dress quickly as soon as he had entered, but by then it had been too late. She didn't know why she was so embarrassed. She was a middle-aged woman, for heaven's sake.

But the idea of Alex seeing her nearly naked frightened her. It had been a long time since anyone had seen her in such a state. Tom hadn't touched her since Theresa had died, mainly because she hadn't let him. It was like she was immune to the feeling of pleasure. It was almost as if she didn't want to be attracted to anyone. That was until Alex came along. Everything changed then and it frightened Clara. It frightened her more than she cared to admit.

Keeping quiet, she let out a long breath before slipping into her dress and pulling her tights onto her legs. Only then did she open the door and let Alex back in. He was still slightly red as he scratched the back of his neck and saw her head on over to the dressing table, perching on the edge of the stool and tugging at her hair.

"Sorry about that," Alex muttered.

"It's fine," Clara responded, trying to act nonchalant.

"I mean…I should have knocked…I…"

"Don't worry about it," Clara continued to protest. "So, what's going on?"

"Lincoln thinks you're working against him," Alex responded, perching on the edge of the bed behind where she sat on the stool. "Well, not working against him, but he suspects that you're not entirely on his side with everything going on."

Her eyes widened and she nodded once, pulling her hair into one hand and searching for the black band on the table to tie it back.

"He has got clever," Clara muttered and Alex felt his lips quirk upwards at hearing her.

"Yeah, he seems to think that I can talk you out of whatever you're planning," Alex responded.

"Does he?" she muttered back, voice coy as she pushed herself to her feet, tightening the bobble in her hair as Alex stood in front of her too, looking her in the eye as she moved her hands to his shoulders. "So he thinks that I will listen to you? Why? Because I care about you?"

"Something like that," Alex mumbled, too focused on the way she was gripping his shoulders.

"And what did you say?" Clara wondered and Alex couldn't help but think that she wasn't taking this very seriously. He gulped once, looking down to her as he felt her move to kiss him on the cheek, her lips lingering on his skin.

"What do you think I said?" he challenged back.

Pulling away, she looked him dead in the eye. "I think that you told him there was nothing going on," she deadpanned as Alex remained slightly amused. "And I think that, if there was anything going on, which there isn't, then you would have told him that nothing changes my mind."

He chuckled again. "How do you know me so well?" he wondered.

"Simple," Clara responded, "because if you had told him that you could change my mind then that would mean you didn't know me very well. Evidentially, you do."

"Evidentially," he echoed as she moved quickly to peck him on the lips.

"And speaking of keeping secrets," she began, pulling away and moving to grab hold of her bag, flinging it onto her shoulder before tugging at the short dress she wore, the red material clinging to her body. "Michael sent me a message. He wants to meet us at the marina. Apparently he tried to convince Lincoln to meet him there, but he refused."

"What does he want?" Alex asked of her.

"To know what we know," she said. "So we need to sneak out of here without anyone suspecting anything, which might be difficult now that Lincoln seems to think we're plotting against him."

"True," Alex said. "But if we move quickly then we might be able to get out."

"Let's do it."

…

Standing on the marina, Clara looked up and down for any sign of Michael and Sara. They weren't difficult to spot as they made their way towards them. Clara moved with haste, unsure of what took over her as she wrapped her arms around Michael quickly, hugging him before moving to Sara.

"Thank God you're both okay," she whispered, pulling back as Michael looked to her, offering her a small smile before glancing to Alex.

"Last we heard you were arrested," Michael commented to Alex.

"Yeah, well, I should have been, but I had other ideas," he responded. "So what's the plan? Do you have one?"

Michael and Sara exchanged a hesitant look between each other before speaking.

"And how do we know that we can trust you?" Sara wondered of Alex.

"For Goodness sake," Clara complained in a low tone. "He is on our team. Alex wants to help. I know that he hasn't always-"

"-He doesn't have the best track record," Sara interrupted.

"I'm not the same FBI Agent who was tasked with killing you," Alex answered honestly. "Things have changed. I helped you to get Scylla, Michael. You trusted me then. I am only with your brother because Clara is there and because Krantz has Pam…and…and Clara to use against me. I don't want to see him get his hands on Scylla."

"Neither of us do," Clara answered, voice harsh and honest as she nodded her head in Michael's direction and he took a deep breath before nodding his head.

"Christina is plotting something," Michael said.

"We know," Clara responded with a firm nod of her head. "We know she intends to be at the energy conference in two days time. She sent a sniper to take Lincoln out. Why would she do that?"

Michael looked away, almost as though he was pained to hear such a thing from her. Dropping his hands to his hips, he let out a sigh as Sara shook her head, a part of her hoping that Christina could be trusted. But that didn't seem like that was the plan.

"I don't know," Michael said, hand moving to his forehead.

"Neither do we," Alex responded, "but I bet it is to do with her and Scylla."

"So what?" Sara wondered. "She takes over The Company and then what?"

"Who knows?" Clara shrugged. "But whatever she intends to do isn't going to be good. The sniper she sent dropped his phone and Alex has The Company tracing back his numbers."

"We can't trust her," Michael offered. "Listen, she…Krantz…whoever…someone sent a man after us. We found this on his body."

Pulling out a piece of paper, he handed it over to them and Clara frowned.

"We managed to decipher most of it," Michael informed them with a slim nod as Alex hovered behind Clara's shoulder, looking down with wonder. "We think that this means 48 Rockwell and that's a car park."

Alex nodded, looking to the next numbers. "So B23 is the section you need? And 16:30 is military timing. So what does VS mean?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Michael said with a nod of his head in their direction. "I don't know where it is going to take us to, but I'm hoping it lets us in on what Christina plans to do at this energy conference she's going to."

Nodding, Alex watched as Michael folded the paper back up and placed it into his pocket. Alex tugged on the suit jacket he wore before moving a hand to the small of Clara's back, letting it rest there as she spoke, arms folded over her chest.

"So what do we do?" Clara wondered. "Because if Krantz finds out we've even met with you then we're both dead."

"Go back," Michael said. "Keep digging on Christina and we'll do the same. Just make sure that no one suspects you both."

Clara scoffed and Alex chuckled, his free hand going to scratch the back of his neck.

"That might be difficult," Alex admitted to Michael. "Your brother seems to suspect that Clara has other plans for Scylla that don't include handing it over to Krantz."

"And he'd be correct," Clara nodded her head. "Of course, he cannot know that."

"But Lincoln isn't foolish," Sara said. "He's suspicious of everyone. How long do you guys think you can keep on tricking him?"

"As long as necessary," Alex said, his voice determined. "We're close to the end of this. We have to be. Christina is the end goal, but the problem is who we give Scylla to once we have it. Who can we trust to exonerate us?"

Michael sighed. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," he responded. "For now, we need to get going to Rockwell. Keep in contact with anything you find out."

"Of course," Clara answered.

"Let's go," Alex said, offering a firm nod over to Michael and Sara before taking hold of Clara by the hand.

He led her away, letting her walk a step behind him before she saw the sight she had feared seeing. Her grip on Alex's hand went tight as the former agent let out a low moan. Stood at the end of the marina was Lincoln, hands on his hips as he arched his brows towards them.

"Michael asked me to meet him here," Lincoln said.

"I know," Clara responded. "He said you had no intention of showing."

"So what?" Lincoln demanded from her. "You run off to Michael and divulge all of our plans?"

"No," Clara said with a shake of her head. "Namely because we don't have a plan right now. But Michael is trying to find Christina."

"And what did he tell you?" Lincoln demanded from her, taking a step closer as Alex saw her move closer, her hand pulled from his as she let herself glower up to Lincoln, her eyes wide and her gaze challenging as she completed the motion.

"Nothing," she said, the word a pop from her lips.

Lincoln shook his head. "I don't believe you."

"I don't care," Clara replied.

"And you?" Lincoln asked, looking over to Alex who held his hands up in defence. "Whose side are you on?"

"The side that keeps Pam alive," Alex answered honestly. "But she's telling the truth. Michael didn't tell us anything. He thinks we'd just use the information for our own gain. He doesn't trust us."

Nodding, Lincoln seemed to believe Alex.

"I don't have time to waste following you around," he looked back to Clara. "From now on, you're out."

"Excuse me?" Clara snapped at him. "I am trying to help you, Lincoln."

"No," Lincoln replied with a finger pointed in her direction. "You are trying to do what you think is the right thing. I am trying to keep my family alive, just like everyone else in that apartment. So you're out. You're staying in the apartment until all of this is done."

"You cannot force me," Clara said with a shake of her head.

"No?" Lincoln demanded. "Did you forget the photos your uncle sent? What do you think he would do to Alex if he found out you'd been going behind his back?"

Clara went silent, lips tightly pursed as Lincoln rolled his eyes, tiring of the conversation they were having. Instead he held his hands up in defeat, looking between Alex and Clara before speaking.

"You're a liability to us," he informed Clara. "You're too much like Michael."

"Then that's not a bad thing," Clara responded.

"She's not coming with us again," Lincoln said, this time speaking to Alex. "And if I find out that you're with her and against us-"

"-I'm not," Alex interrupted. "I know what Krantz has. Pam's safety means more to me than Scylla…just like Clara's does. I'm with you on this."

Clara moved to stand in front of Alex then, glowering at him. But he shot her a harsh stare, hoping that he was silently able to communicate what he hoped to her. There was no use in both of them being ostracised from the group. That would achieve nothing.

She seemed to understand, offering him a small wink before speaking loudly. "So that's it?" she demanded from him. "You're going along with them in there?"

"What do you want me to do?" Alex demanded from her, voice low and harsh. "They have Pam, Clara. They have you. Lincoln is right…we're doing this for our families. Just accept that and wait until it is over. We can go our separate ways then."

"And Krantz gets what he wants," Clara concluded, flapping her arms by her side.

"And if he found out you were speaking this way then he'd kill you himself," Lincoln continued. "Listen, I'm going back to the loft. If you're both not there in ten minutes then we're going without you."

"Where to?" Clara wondered and Lincoln shot her a look that said 'as if I'd tell you.' She went silent as Lincoln wandered off, exhaling a deep breath.

"One of us needs to stay on side, I guess," Clara admitted once he was away from listening into their conversations. "Just don't do anything foolish, got it? And promise to tell me everything that's going on."

"Anything else?" Alex asked, an amused tone to his voice as Clara let out a small laugh and nudged him in the stomach as he chuckled at the motion and she moved to loop her arm into his.

"No," she responded. "But I hope you were right about this nearly being over."

"Me too," Alex whispered. "Me too."


	37. Chapter 37

Being locked away in the penthouse, Clara was angrier than she had been in a long time. Alex had left after The Company had traced the phone call the sniper had made and it had led him straight to the Indian Embassy. Clara had demanded to know what Christina was doing at the Indian Embassy, but no one had told her anything. Lincoln had locked her away in her bedroom, taking the key with him.

"Is that necessary?" Alex wondered, pointing to the bedroom door as Clara banged on the wood.

"She's putting everything at risk," Lincoln responded. "If she keeps on acting as a mole for Michael then my family is at risk. Your family is at risk, Mahone. Do you want that?"

"Of course not," Alex responded quickly. "But she's not as big of a threat as you think. Come on, Linc."

"Do you want to stay with her?" Lincoln retorted, voice full of demand and anger as he watched Mahone. The man shook his head and followed Lincoln, knowing that he had no other option but to go with them.

…

Clara had sunk down on the bed, knowing that there was no point of her continuously banging on the wood. She could break the door down, but there would be no point, knowing that Lincoln would have also locked the main door to the apartment. She had resigned herself to that fact, laying down on the bed and groaning to herself, wondering exactly what was going on.

Would Alex be in danger? Would they be able to find Scylla? She had no idea. All that she knew was that the day was passing her by and she was doing nothing. She was of no help to anyone. She hated that. She hated the feeling of uselessness. Eventually she heard a noise outside of her door. Standing up, she tugged her dress down her thighs as the door opened and she saw Bagwell stood there, holding a pack of ice to his cheek.

"Wouldn't happen to know if your boyfriend is on his way home, would ya darlin'?"

Clara rolled her eyes and brushed by him, but Bagwell was quick, his hand snaking around her upper arm and stopping her from going anywhere. Turning to look to him, she let her eyes roam over his face as he licked his lips and his eyes met hers.

"Get off of me," she demanded from him.

"If we're working together then you should be a little nicer," Bagwell warned her.

"I am not working with you," Clara responded.

"Would your little uncle be happy to hear that?" Bagwell enquired and Clara finally pulled her arm from his grip, her gaze narrow and her teeth grinding together as she let her eyes roam over his face.

"Don't talk to me about him," she demanded and moved down the staircase and towards the kitchen, grateful to be outside of her bedroom.

Bagwell followed her, but he didn't bother to say anything further. Instead he took a seat at the breakfast bar while Clara grabbed a mug and began to press buttons on the coffee machine. Placing the mug in the machine, she waited until her drink was ready and then picked it up and wandered off towards the balcony, wanting to be away from Bagwell. Leaning on the railing, she sipped on her coffee until she heard commotion enter the apartment.

"What the hell happened to you?" Lincoln demanded from Bagwell.

"What does it look like?" Bagwell demanded back from him. "I got beaten up because of your stupid plot."

"For the greater good," Lincoln responded. "And who said that you could let her out?"

"Charming," Clara snarled, sipping on her coffee while her eyes wandered over to Alex who was looking to her with a knowing glance. "Anyway, I take it that it didn't exactly go to plan?"

"You'd be correct-"

"-Don't tell her anything," Lincoln interrupted Self from saying anything further and Clara rolled her eyes, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"And what am I supposed to be doing?" Clara demanded. "You have me locked away in here without any means of getting to your brother. I'm not exactly a threat, am I? I want to help."

"No, you want to get us killed," Lincoln responded.

Clara slammed her mug down on the side as Alex saw the telltale signs of her losing her temper. Her cheeks puffed out and turned red while she placed her hands on the worktop and looked over to Lincoln.

"I want to stop The Company," she snapped. "I want to keep everyone alive. I'm not trying to get your family killed."

"Come on," Alex said, trying to act as peacemaker. "We don't need to argue over this. You know that she's just trying to do the best to help."

"We don't need her help," Lincoln said. "Now get working on that post-it note while your girlfriend goes back to her room."

"This is ridiculous," Clara seethed. "I am not going anywhere."

As if to make her point, Clara perched on the stool at the breakfast bar while Alex pulled the post it note out from his pocket and began to press buttons on his phone. He knew that Clara could handle herself against Lincoln. He also knew that he couldn't afford to lose Lincoln's trust like Clara had. He needed to keep Linc on side so that he was privy to the information he received. He had to do that for Pam and for Clara.

"We'll see about that," Lincoln responded and before Clara could do anything she felt Lincoln grab hold of her by the waist, hauling her to her feet before he tipped her over his shoulder.

"What the hell?" she demanded as she lost her footing.

"Linc," Alex protested, pressing the phone to his shoulder as he followed Lincoln towards the staircase. "Is this necessary?"

"Until this is over, then yes," Lincoln declared as Clara hit his back, her fists harsh but not enough to deter Lincoln as he moved her towards the bedroom.

"You're making a big mistake," Clara snapped at him.

"So you keep saying," Lincoln said. "But I warned you, Clara. I'm doing this for all of us…you'll see that eventually."

…

VS had meant Vincent Sandinsky. Clara came to realise that once Alex, Self and Lincoln had returned with the man. Apparently he had been due to speak at the conference the following day, but who he was or what he was going to say was not known as of yet. Alex had come to Clara as soon as they had returned with the man to the loft, unlocking the door and informing her of who they had in the apartment.

"Was Michael there?" she asked him as he entered the bedroom and he nodded.

"He got there before us, but he was outnumbered. Christina had sent men to pick up Sandinsky," Alex informed her. "I guess we know what VS means now though."

"So what's going on downstairs?" Clara enquired.

"They're interrogating Sandinsky, but he's claiming innocence," Alex said to her.

"Maybe he is innocent?" Clara suggested. "Or maybe you're not asking him nice enough? I know what you are all like."

"We need answers, Clara, not manners," Alex informed her and she bit down on her tongue. "I don't know if we can trust this guy or not. He's playing a good game if he's lying to us. He's got the scared act completely nailed."

Clara rolled her eyes as she moved towards the steps towards the open planned living area. "Or maybe he is scared?" she suggested to Alex. "I mean, we're all scared, right? Me? I'm terrified of what might happen."

Alex suspected she felt on edge, even more so considering her hands were shaking as she pushed them through her hair. She could hear them speaking downstairs, but before she had a chance to move, Alex had taken hold of her by the arm, stopping her from moving as he turned her to face him.

Moving with haste, he bent down, his hand on her chin as he tilted her face upwards and his lips pressed to hers. Clara wondered what he was doing for a moment before he pulled back, the motion brief and tender. His hand went to the back of her head, cupping it softly as he watched her.

"I've got you," he promised in a whisper, hoping that might be enough to soothe her. She said nothing, instead she only nodded to him and moved to kiss his cheek.

Moving down the steps, Clara saw Lincoln on the phone, speaking in a low voice as Bagwell and Self kept an eye on Sandinsky. Clara came to the bottom of the staircase just as Lincoln hung up. But for once his anger wasn't directed to her. It was directed at the man they had abducted.

"Where's Scylla?" Lincoln demanded, voice raised.

"I don't know," Sandinsky said.

"Where is it?!" Lincoln roared.

"Hey," Clara said as Lincoln moved his gaze to her. "Yelling at him isn't going to get you anything."

"It's going to get me everything," Lincoln said, pointing to Sandinsky. "Because this guy is a liar!"

He took hold of the man by the collar and moved with haste. He pushed him against the pillar in the middle of the room, his hands holding onto the collar of his shirt.

"Hey!" Clara snapped.

"Where is it!?" Lincoln roared again and Clara tugged at his arm.

"This isn't achieving anything," she snarled back. "What? You think that yelling at him and beating him up is going to get him to talk? It doesn't work like that."

"I think it will if he wants to live," Lincoln declared and Clara rolled her eyes as she saw him pull out his gun, pointing it straight at Sandinsky.

"Lincoln," Self warned him. "This isn't going to get us anywhere. He can't talk when he's dead."

"Self is right," Alex agreed.

But before anyone could make a move, a new voice entered the room, roaring loudly. Clara turned her head to the side in time to see her uncle enter the room, flanked by his bodyguards. She recoiled at the sight of him, seeing how half of his face was mauled, the sight unpleasant.

"Burrows! Put that gun down." Krantz demanded, voice full of demanding as one of his men moved towards Burrows and took the gun from him.

Looking to Vincent, Krantz seemed to have eyes only for him. "You will not harm Vincent."

"Vincent," Alex scoffed his name and then looked to Krantz. "And we had a deal!"

"New deal," Krantz said. "I'm in charge now and me and Vincent have some things to discuss. Doctor Sandinsky has worked for The Company for over two decades. He's a scientist."

"I am," Vincent said.

"So what is he doing in Miami?" Krantz demanded.

But Sandinsky wasn't answering. He was silent until one of the guards pulled at his arm, threatening to break it. And so he broke instead.

"Christina invited me," he managed to weasel out.

"Ah, I see," Krantz said, pretending to muse. "And this really does bring us right to the beginning, doesn't it? So when were you all going to tell me that Christina has Scylla?"

Clara jumped in them, moving to stand in front of Burrows and face off with her uncle. "You know why they didn't tell you," she said, her voice hasty as she looked to the man she had once classed as her family. "They didn't tell you because if you knew then there would be no need for them. They have people they want to protect. They have people who they care about him."

Moving towards Clara, Krantz grabbed hold of her by the chin, his hold rough as Alex took a step forwards, but a gun to the side of his head stopped him from going any further as Clara let out a short and sharp pant as Krantz moved his other hand to run down her cheek.

"And I know all about you," Krantz said. "I know about your whispering to Michael Scofield about anything that might be relevant. Did I not warn you what would happen if you betrayed me? Or do you need to see?"

Clara wondered what he was on about before he pushed her face away and then looked around the room.

"On your knees," he demanded from them all. "Except for Bagwell. He's the only one who has told me any truth."

"No," Clara said with haste, her eyes instantly flashing towards Alex.

"You can't be serious," Lincoln seethed. "Who do you think found Sandinsky? It wasn't Bagwell, I can tell you that much."

"I know where she is though," Sandinsky said, clearly eager to save his own neck.

"Then you have one day, Burrows," Krantz spoke. "You have one day to clear this mess up or the deal is off. You had better get moving."

They all began to move, but Krantz took hold of Clara by the arm, stopping her from going any further as Alex noted the motion and he wanted nothing more than to punch her uncle and grab her. That man deserved to be nowhere near her. He didn't deserve to be touching her or breathing the same air as her.

"Not you," Krantz said. "You see, I need some insurance here. Now go. And Bagwell…you stay here too."

"I'll be fine," Clara whispered to Alex as he continued to watch her.

Nodding once, Alex didn't seem entirely convinced but he had no other option but to watch her go. She remained mute, watching as Self, Linc and Alex left. Taking a seat on the sofa, Krantz sat across from her as she looked to him.

"What happened to your face?" she enquired.

"Someone tried to take my position as General."

"I take it they failed?"

"They always do," Krantz confirmed. "You know, Clara, I let you stay here out of courtesy, because I thought that you wanted to do the right thing. You wanted to keep Alexander Mahone safe. Your love for him truly is touching. Bagwell informed me of how you two are very close."

"Did he?" Clara asked, sending a glance across to Bagwell.

"Alexander Mahone will be your downfall," Krantz responded. "Do you think that he will want you once all of this is over? He will go back to his ex-wife as soon as this is over. He loves her, Clara. What he feels for you is not the same. You are just something to occupy his time during this entire process…someone who keeps his bed warm at night…"

"Shut up," Clara demanded and Krantz moved to stand up.

"Don't worry, Clara," he said. "I have other fish to fry."

Turning his attention to Sandinsky, she watched as her uncle moved towards the scientist along with his men. They moved towards the scientist and began to beat him. Clara struggled to watch on, but she knew that any chance of intervening would be impossible. She remained sat on the sofa, her head buried in her hands as she heard Sandinsky grunt in pain as they demanded to know what Christina was doing.

Clara overheard her uncle on the phone, asking Sandinsky if DMB meant anything to him. Apparently it did. He said it meant the Dade-Miami Bank. Clara wondered exactly what the bank had to do with anything. She could only imagine that Christina had business at the bank. But she didn't know. She had nothing to offer anyone while she was locked away in the loft.

…

Clara didn't know what was happening. She had no idea what was going on as she stood in the background and her uncle turned on the TV, the breaking news hitting her eyes and ears as she watched on. There had been some kind of incident at the energy conference.

"She's going to win," Sandinsky spoke as Krantz remained stood, staring at the TV.

"What the hell is going on?" Clara demanded as Krantz shook his head.

"She wanted this," he spoke. "She wanted to create an incident to sell Scylla. She wanted to create global warfare. What better way to do that than by assassinating Banerjee?"

"But-"

"-There is no buts, Clara," Krantz interrupted. "This is what she wants. She wants war."

"And it's war that she has," Sandinsky said before Krantz turned to look over at him.

"I suggest you keep quiet," Krantz demanded from Sandinsky.

"In fact," Krantz said, "Bagwell, kill him."

Moving towards the door, Clara struggled to watch any of this. She had to go. She had to find Alex and make sure that he was safe. She had no idea where he was. She had no idea what was going on. All she wanted was to go and find him. But she was going nowhere. As she walked the noise of a gunshot echoed through the room and then the slumping of a body. She closed her eyes before she heard Krantz speak.

"You're going nowhere," Krantz called out to his niece.

"I'm not staying here," Clara said, unable to turn around and see the dead body of Sandinsky. "I'm not staying here with you."

"Yes, you are," Krantz said.

It was then when the news mentioned a name she recognised. Lincoln Burrows. She looked to the screen along with everyone else. Lincoln Burrows was the key suspect in the shooting.

"She's set them up," Krantz snarled as two of his men grabbed hold of Sandinsky's body and Clara moved out of the way. "She's set them up and if they're caught then they'll talk."

"So what do we do?" Bagwell wondered.

"You go down there and you sort this mess out."

Clara didn't bother to listen to anymore. She snuck off into the study and grabbed hold of the phone there, dialling the number with haste. She only hoped that no one noticed her absence as she placed the phone to her ear.

"Alex," she whispered.

"Clara," he responded. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she promised him. "But what about you? What the hell has happened?"

"Christina set us up," Alex said. "She made the shooting look like Lincoln had done it. There was a getaway car rented his name and passports for all of us inside of it. She wanted us to go down for this. She's trying to start a war. That's what she needs to sell Scylla."

"Christ," Clara mumbled.

"I went to find her, but she's gone. Michael had her tied up in the place where him and Sara were staying, but she escaped. I'm on my way back to the loft now."

"Okay," Clara said. "Just…hurry, alright?"

"Of course." He responded and hung up.

Wandering back into the living room, Clara folded her arms over her chest, glancing at her uncle as he stood there, still looking at the TV screen. He looked to Clara as she noted that Bagwell was still in the room. She moved her hands to her hips and arched a brow.

"She wants a war between China and India," he said. "She wants conflict and warfare. That's all she is after."

"So how do you stop her?" Clara enquired. "Or don't you?"

"The only way to stop her is to kill her," Krantz said.

"And you'd know all about that," Clara whispered and Krantz watched her begin to wander off and towards the staircase.

…

Alex felt his rage increase as he walked by Krantz once he returned to the loft. He knew that he should be doing more, but he couldn't think of what else to do. Self was still outside the hotel where the conference was being held and Sara was safe. For now, Alex needed to be back with Clara. He needed her to be safe. He knew full well that the deal was off with Krantz if they failed. He had no doubt that they were failing. Christina had everything well planned out.

Entering the bedroom, Alex shut the door behind him as he saw Clara sat on the stool at the dressing table, her head buried in her hands. She had her eyes closed and she didn't look up as Alex entered and wandered further into the room.

He sat down on the long stool next to her, moving his arms around her. She felt the motion and moved closer, her own hands resting on his chest as she leant against him and felt his lips press onto the crown of her head.

"He killed Sandinsky," she whispered.

"I didn't think he wouldn't," Alex admitted, his tone one of honesty as Clara shrugged, wondering if she had been too optimistic. "I don't know what else to do, Clara."

"There's nothing else you can do," she responded in a hushed tone. "He's played us all…Christina's played us all…"

"I need to get you out of here," Alex said. "I need to keep you safe."

"No," she responded. "You need to keep Pam safe. You love her, Alex. You always have done. She doesn't deserve any of this."

Alex pulled to loosen the black tie he wore as he looked over to her. He moved his hand to hold her cheek as he noticed the tears in her eyes as she peered downwards. Alex wondered exactly what was going through her mind. She looked pensive, but this wasn't the Clara he knew. The Clara he knew was strong. She was tough. She didn't look like this.

"What did he say?" Alex wondered from her, knowing that there could be only one reason why she was speaking in such a manner. "I know him, Clara. Did he try to get into your head? What did he say?"

"Nothing," she denied, trying to shrug away from Alex but failing miserably as he kept his arms tightly around her.

"Talk to me," he urged from her. "Clara, whatever he said was a lie."

"Don't say that," she urged from him. "Because it probably is true. He told me…well…that as soon as this is over then you'll want to go back to Pam. She's the one you want to be with, not me."

Alex shook his head. "He doesn't know what he's talking about," he assured her. "I've told you before, Clara, that Pam…I love her…but I cannot be with her."

"So is that why you want to be with me?" Clara enquired. "Because you can't be with Pam?"

"No," Alex said in a low and demanding voice. "I want to be with you because I want to be with you. You are not second best. You never have been. Do not let him get into your head. This is what he wants. He wants you to feel weak. He wants you to feel unloved."

"I know," Clara said. "And I hate myself for letting him make me feel this way. I do. I know we have bigger things to worry about…I'm sorry…"

"No," Alex said with a shake of his head. "I don't want you to apologise for telling me how you feel…just know that what I feel for you cannot be taken away by that man downstairs."

Nodding, Clara moved towards him and kissed him slowly, wondering exactly where they would be when this was all over.

...

A/N: Thanks to everyone reading and do let me know what you think!


	38. Chapter 38

Clara walked back down the steps with Alex, her hand holding onto his as she did her best not to appear too nervous by what she was going to see. They had been in their room, discussing everything that had happened, including Alex telling Sara to get to safety and stay there and what happened in the hotel. Her uncle was angry, she could tell that much. Everything was not going to plan and Christina Scofield was making sure of it. As they returned to the open spaced living area, Clara felt her stomach sink as soon as she saw the men there. Her grip in Alex's hand tightened as he moved his other arm to wrap around her waist, drawing her closer to him.

"What's going on here?" Alex was the one to enquired as the General looked to his niece and her new beau.

Michael and Lincoln were stood in the room, their eyes flitting on everyone else who was near them. Clara let her gaze move to Michael, wondering exactly how he had escaped the conference. It was another second before Krantz spoke, his hands holding onto his hips as he paced up and down a few metres.

"I confess myself disappointed with the lot of you," Krantz said as his bodyguards kept their guns in their grips and it was another moment before he spoke. "I wanted Scylla and none of you could get it. You are all useless. I gave you a time limit and I warned you what would happen to those who you love if you failed."

"No," Clara said with haste, looking to her uncle. "They were set up. You know that."

"That is irrelevant," Krantz said as he moved to the breakfast bar and began to write names down on a sheet of paper, ripping those names off and tossing them into a glass bowl. "They failed and now they pay."

"So what?" Clara demanded. "You get them to pick a name out of the bowl and then you murder their loved one?"

"I have to say, Clara, your intelligence knows no bounds."

"No," Self was the one to snap, shaking his head back and forth. "This is bullshit. I never signed up for this. I never asked for any of this to happen."

"Yeah…I think maybe we need-"

"-Shut up," Clara interrupted T-Bag before he could continue speaking, her glare moving over to him as she did her best not to let anger boil inside of her. Looking across to her, T-Bag glowered as she looked to Lincoln and Michael, and even Self. "He's defected."

"Now, I never said what side I was playing, gorgeous," T-Bag said.

"And you think we would ever trust you anyway?" Lincoln demanded from T-Bag, scoffing and shaking his head at the sight of the man. It was another moment before Krantz looked between the group and Clara did her best not to feel sick as he dipped his hand into the bowl of names, swirling his fingers around.

"All this stalling will not detract from the fact that you failed and failure means consequences," Krantz declared.

Gulping for breath, Clara felt her stomach churn as he withdrew a name from the bowl and she felt Alex's grip on her increase. If it was Pam then she had no idea how he would cope. If anything ever happened to his wife then it would ruin him. How could it not ruin him? He blamed himself for so much already that Pam's death would destroy him.

Pulling out the name, Krantz held it up and Clara struggled to read it without her glasses. She could make out the number of letters, however, and in a moment she knew who it was. The man in question shook his head with haste, slicing his hand through the air.

"No," Self declared. "No way. You go nowhere near my wife!"

Clara had to confess that she knew nothing of Self's wife. The man had kept himself to himself, choosing to withhold information at any given moment. Krantz looked to one of his agents before speaking, his tone low and dangerous;

"Call the man."

"No!" Self screamed loudly, but he didn't charge at Krantz.

Instead he moved towards the open balcony and everyone watched on as he launched himself out of the window. Gunshots followed as Alex grabbed hold of Clara, his arms wrapping around her and drawing her closer against his chest as he heard the bangs. Before he knew it, they had stopped and Self had disappeared, the bodyguards peering over the balcony and looking for his body.

"Did he make it?" Clara whispered, knowing that no one had the answer to that question as she moved from Alex and Lincoln shrugged.

"If he survived the fall then he still has his life and his wife to worry about," Krantz declared.

"Enough!" Michael was the one to snarl, anger taking over him as he pinched the bridge of his nose and longed for this mess to be over with. Looking to Krantz, he moved closer to him and spoke, his voice so low and dangerous that Clara had to admit to feeling goosebumps on her neck. "You want Scylla? We will get it for you. But if you think that by killing the people we love will be the way to do it, then you're sorely mistaken."

"No," Krantz said with haste. "I know that this way keeps you all in line. It stops you all from going against me."

"We have no intention of going against you," Lincoln said quickly. "Just let us go and find Scylla."

"Fine," Krantz said. "And where do you suppose you should start?"

"The banks," Michael said with haste. "She will need a Federal Reserve signatory to withdraw money and confirm that she has payment from India. She wants to sell Scylla, but she will make sure that she has the money before she even sends it over."

"Find a bank," Krantz said. "If I have no update by the end of the day then I swear that you will pay…all of you."

Moving over to the doorway, Lincoln and Michael began to move off and Alex looked down to Clara. He knew fully well that Krantz would never let her leave the apartment. She was some form of leverage over each of them. Alex would never abandon her and Lincoln, despite his anger with her, also would never abandon her. Krantz might have their families, but he also knew that if he kept Clara then he would ensure that they returned to him.

"Go," Clara urged him in a soft voice. "Just go and be safe."

Nodding, Alex bent down to kiss her swiftly before dropping her hand from his. Rushing towards the door, he left with Michael and Lincoln in toe before Clara let out a deep breath. Looking over to her, Krantz let his hands move behind his back, lacing them together.

"Bagwell told me something interesting," Krantz declared. "Your little boyfriend went to check on Sara before he returned here."

"Did he?" Clara wondered back, sinking down onto the sofa, perching on the edge of it as she looked to her uncle and T-Bag remained stood by the breakfast bar, a sly look on his face.

"You should be careful how loudly you and Alex speak," T-Bag hissed. "Anyone could be…lurking outside your door."

"You asshole," Clara snapped at him.

"But you see, we both know Michael, don't we, pretty?" T-Bag spoke, moving closer to her and standing besides Krantz. It was another second before he spoke, his eyes set on Clara and a sneer on his lips. "Michael will never give Scylla back, not unless we have some leverage over him."

It was then when Clara seemed to understand what she was hearing from T-Bag. If they wanted leverage then she knew exactly what they were going to try to get. Gulping once, she shook her head and tugged on the dress she wore. Looking worried, Clara watched her uncle.

"You need to leave Sara alone," she urged from him. "She is innocent in all of this. She has done nothing-"

"-She is his girlfriend," Krantz interrupted. "She is not innocent. She is involved."

"So what?" Clara asked. "You're going to take her hostage and use her against Michael?"

"Again," Krantz said, a smug look on his face, "you are not as foolish as you appear, Clara. Perhaps I can understand what Alexander Mahone sees in you. A man with his intellect would hardly look at you twice if it wasn't for your pretty face."

Clara ignored the insult, taking a moment to compose herself.

"Bagwell," Krantz spoke. "Go to the car Mahone was driving and look at the GPS on it. Find Sara and bring her back here."

Clara would have protested, but she knew that it would do her no use. The fact of the matter was that he would do what he had to do and she could not stop him. She was outnumbered and she was being watched like a hawk. What other option did she have?

…

It was two hours before Bagwell returned with Sara in tow. Standing on her feet, Clara moved over to the woman and took her from Bagwell's grip, holding onto her hand softly as she moved with her into the living room. Sara's breathing was erratic as Krantz watched the two women wander towards the sofa and perch down on the edge of it.

"Pleasure to see you, Doctor Tancredi," Krantz said.

"You won't win," Sara declared. "You know that, don't you? Michael will never let you get away with this."

He chuckled as he flipped out his phone and pressed it to his ear. "The sad part is, that I know men like Scofield…Mahone…I know men in love and how they think. Trust me, I will get what I want."

"Did he hurt you?" Clara asked as Bagwell and Krantz went off to whisper in corners. The bodyguards were still loitering and Clara knew that there was no point in trying to escape.

"No," Sara said with a shake of her head, tucking her hair behind her ear. "He didn't get a chance to do anything. I…I should have gone somewhere else…somewhere to help Michael."

"You did what you thought was right at the time," Clara responded. "Believe me, you are doing better than I am. I haven't left this loft in too long. Alex…he's running around out there and risking his life with Lincoln and Michael while I am locked away in here."

Nodding her head, Sara seemed to understand the annoyance that Clara was feeling before she bowed her head and looked to the floor.

"What if they don't do this?" Sara worried. "What if they can't get Scylla?"

"They will," Clara responded, nodding her head quickly. "It is Michael. He knows what he is doing. He knows how to play this."

"But…I…" Sara said and Clara sensed that she was on the verge of telling her something. There was a look in Sara's eye that Clara had never seen before. It was almost a stare of panic. Then again, Clara knew how she felt. But there seemed to be something else as Sara bent down, her hands holding her face as a soft sob escaped her. "I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean?" Clara wondered from her. "Sara, what is it?"

"I'm pregnant," Sara spoke, her voice a soft whisper as she looked to Clara and her eyes widened in response. It was another moment before her mouth gaped and she saw Sara sniff loudly. "I know."

"Sara…" she trailed off. "I mean…that is…that is lovely news…"

Sara managed a small laugh at hearing that. "Yeah," she agreed, "if it wasn't for the really bad timing."

"True," Clara said in a whisper back to her. "Does Michael know?"

Sara shook her head. "I haven't found the right time to tell him. Funny enough, we've just been running around and trying not to get killed."

"He will be thrilled," Clara assured her, moving to hold onto her gently, wondering if she could bring some form of comfort to her in this difficult time. It was another second before she felt Sara relax and Clara knew she had to do everything in her power to protect the Doctor in the loft.

…

A/N: Let me know what you think!


	39. Chapter 39

Clara and Sara both had no idea what was going on. They didn't know what was going to happen nor did they know what the plan was. They were trapped in the penthouse and in the dark. The only person who was left was T-Bag standing guard over them. Clara had held Sara tightly, feeling even more protective of her since she had told her the news. She had held her by the hand, her other arm around her waist.

"You know he's going to let me do what I want to you, pretty?" T-Bag gloated to Sara and Clara tightened her grip around the woman, her glare increasing as she watched T-Bag, knowing full well that he would do things they did not wish to think of.

"You are going nowhere near her," Clara sniped back. "Unless you want to go through me."

T-Bag eyed her up and down. "I'm sure that can be arranged to."

Clara felt bile in her throat before she saw Krantz step into the room, pocketing his cell into his shirt pocket and looking to the two women on the sofa.

"Michael has Scylla. We're going to meet him."

"Then you exchange Scylla for Sara," Clara said with haste, moving to her feet and looking at her uncle. "You take her and you let them go. You leave them alone."

Looking over her, Krantz allowed his lip to curl upwards as he shook his head and let out a soft sigh.

"You just don't get it, do you, Clara?" he said to her. "If Michael thinks that he is going to walk out of this game as the winner then he has another thing coming. He is not having Sara back, nor is he walking away with his life."

Clara felt her cheeks begin to burn as she lunged forwards, but one of Krantz's men stopped her from attacking him. He looked over his niece as she tried to push them off, nodding to one of the men as she continued to fight. His hand made contact with Clara's cheek, sending her tumbling to the floor after bouncing off the corner of the sofa. Sara moved with haste then, dropping down onto her knees and helping Clara sit up.

"You bastard," Clara hissed at him.

"No, I do what I have to do to survive," Krantz said. "It's a shame your parents didn't learn that when they should have."

She said nothing in response, feeling sick as she heard him.

"Bagwell, I trust you can handle these two?"

"It would be my pleasure," he hissed back.

She felt the rage boil through her again as she watched her uncle and his posse leave the penthouse. There was only Bagwell left and he was looking at both of them as though he had won, but there was no chance that Clara was going to let him hurt Sara. Moving frantically to her feet alongside Sara, she ignored the throbbing in her cheek as she stood in front of Sara.

"Do not touch her," Clara demanded.

"Step aside or I'll show you how truly painful a punch can be," Bagwell said.

"Don't," Sara said to Bagwell. "Just don't go near her."

"It's not her I want," Bagwell sniped back. "But if I have to go through her to get what I want then so be it."

Moving forwards, Bagwell pushed at Clara, grabbing her hair in his grip and pulling it as she screamed out loud in pain. Sara shrieked for him to stop, moving with haste to punch at him on the back as he let his hand punch Clara straight across the jaw, sending her tumbling to the floor. Moving towards her again, he bent down to try and haul her up, but Clara was quicker. Lifting her foot, she kicked T-Bag in the crotch, listening to him roar in pain.

Sara moved to kick at him, watching him fall to the floor. But he was quick. He kicked at Sara's ankles, sending her tumbling to the floor as Clara clutched onto her jaw, feeling the stinging of it as she moved to her knees, panting for breath as she noted Bagwell straddling Sara. She lunged towards him, knocking him from the woman and onto the ground, hastily moving to her feet as Sara did the same, grabbing hold of Clara and tugging her back.

Running a hand through his hair, Bagwell chuckled before reaching into his pocket, aiming a gun at the two women who clung onto each other.

"Now," he said in a gasp of breath, "I take it you two are going to behave?"

"Clara," Sara said in a warning voice as the woman tried to move forwards.

"You're not going to do this," Clara said.

"If I have to shoot you then I will, don't think that I won't."

Clara let her lips quirk upwards. "I'm his niece," she said. "You shoot me and you answer to him."

Bagwell shrugged. "I don't think he cares as much as you think he does," he responded. "He murdered your parents, didn't he? I doubt he'd mind his niece following them into the grave. Now, step aside and let me at Sara."

"No," Clara said with haste.

"Clara," Sara protested.

"What is it, Bagwell?" Clara asked from him, taking a step forward and wondering if he had it in him to shoot her. He remained still, the gun raised in mid-air as she shrugged. "You think that my uncle is going to keep you around after all this is done? You clearly don't know him. As soon as everything is finished he will kill you. I doubt he would do it himself. He doesn't deal with low lives like you."

"You think this is going to work?" Bagwell demanded from her. "Stalling me?"

"Perhaps." She shrugged at him.

"Then you're more of a fool than I thought."

It was then when the blast echoed through the room.

…

Mahone didn't know how he had managed to escape with Lincoln. He had gone to Christina with a plan to trick her, but the bomb hadn't gone off when it was supposed to. Mahone had somehow managed to trigger it automatically, giving him time to escape with Lincoln in tow. Lincoln had been badly injured, but the man was still touch enough to limp by Alex's side. After being captured by Christine, the woman had been willing to let him die from blood loss after demanding Scylla back from Michael.

Alex had done his best to help Lincoln out of the building, rushing onto the street and away from the blast. Noticing the sight of Michael in a car by the curb, he watched on as Michael and Clara hopped out of the car, both of them looking anything but relieved. It was then when Alex saw her.

Sara pulled open the back door of the car to reveal Clara sat up, but Mahone had focused on something else. He was too busy looking at the blood pouring from her side. As Michael took hold of Lincoln, Alex rushed forwards, standing by the car as he looked to Clara, his eyes frantically roaming over her as she struggled to keep her eyes open. Moving a hand towards him, she felt his fingers grip hold of hers, his lips pressing against her knuckles as he saw a bandage on her side, but it wasn't helping.

"She protected me from T-Bag," Sara said with a shaky voice. "She needs to go to a hospital."

"He'll find me and know," Clara managed to whimper as Lincoln struggled into the backseat.

"I don't care," Alex was the one to snap. "Clara, I don't care what happens. We are going to a hospital and we are going now."

"We can't," Lincoln said. "They would put us in jail."

"No, they would put you in jail, but Clara is not wanted for anything," Alex said and looked to Michael and Sara as they watched him. "Take us to a hospital and then go. Linc can do as he wants, but I am taking her and I am going with her."

Michael looked to Alex before taking hold of his arm and dragging him to the side for a moment, his hand dropping from Clara's.

"You know what this means, right?" Michael asked from Alex. "If you go into hospital with her and they find you then we can't help you. We can't bail you out. We need to finish this."

"I know," Alex said, thinking clearly. "Just get us to hospital."

Michael didn't argue, nor did Sara. The guilt was eating her up as she watched Alex remove his jacket and push it into a ball. He sat next to Clara in the backseat, pressing his jacket against the wound as she hissed in pain.

"We need to try and stem the bleeding," Mahone said to her.

"I know," she muttered before looking to Linc. "And what happened to you?"

"Mummy issues," he managed to say and Clara let her lips quirk upwards despite everything as the car sped off. "I'll be fine though. Mine doesn't look as bad as yours."

"Damn right," Clara mumbled. "I try to do everything better than you."

"Well I wish you wouldn't," Alex said to her as he kept hold of her hand in one of his, his other hand still holding the jacket. He could feel her staring at him, but she said nothing. Instead she simply closed her eyes and swayed forwards as Alex shook his head.

"Clara," he spoke her name with haste. "Clara…come on…"

She opened her eyes slightly then as she looked to him and managed a sad smile, a hand moving to his cheek as she looked him in the eye.

"Bagwell was going to hurt Sara," she explained to him. "I couldn't let him do it…I couldn't…I had to stop him."

"Sh, sh, sh," Mahone urged from her, his hand moving to stroke her cheek as he tried to offer her some form of comfort, his eyes not once leaving hers as she gulped and inhaled a sharp breath. He saw the signs of her losing consciousness and he knew he had to keep her talking. "I don't blame you, Clara. None of this is your fault. You did the right thing. You always do the right thing. You always do."

"No, I don't," she responded with a shake of her head. "Alex…I've done some bad things."

"No," Alex said with a shake of his head. "Clara, you did everything right…everything…you're the best thing in my life. You're the only good thing in my life. I need you to stay with me, alright? I need you because you're the one thing that keeps me going. Do you understand me?"

"I…I love you, Alex," Clara said to him. "I don't know what else I can say. I'm such an idiot because I know…I know you care, but I know that deep down you-"

"-I do," Alex interrupted her with haste, stopping her from talking. He didn't care who was listening in as he kept hold of Clara's cheek, her eyes seeming to widen as he spoke and saw her shake her head.

"You don't need to say it to make me feel better."

"I'm not," Alex promised her. "I'm telling you it because it's the truth, Clara. I'm telling you because I do love you. I've known it for a while. I just didn't know how to admit it to myself, never mind to you. But…I'm not going to say it again, do you understand me? I'm not going to say it again because it sounds like we are saying goodbye and this is not goodbye. I am not saying goodbye to you because you're going to make it. You're going to make it through this."

Clara managed to let her lips quirk before jutting her chin out. She managed to press her lips against Alex's, the motion soft and tender before she pulled back, her forehead resting against his. Her breathing grew shallower before Alex noted her eyes closed. Moving his hand to run over her cheek, he shook his head with haste.

"Clara," he spoke her name harshly. "Clara, don't you do this to me."

But she said nothing back.

"How far away are we?" Alex snapped at Michael.

"A minute tops," Michael said.

"Clara…come on…Clara…"

"Clara, listen to me," Lincoln chimed in, trying to get her to open her eyes again.

The car screeched to a halt and Alex jumped from his seat, taking hold of Clara by the waist and tipping her into his arms, forgetting about his jacket as he ran forwards, forgetting about Michael, Lincoln and Sara. He knew they would drive off. They had a mission to complete, but all Alex cared about was getting Clara into the hospital. Running into the ER, Alex looked around as nurses stopped going about their business and they watched him.

"She's been shot," Alex said, his voice verging on hysteria. "Please…I don't think she's breathing."

The nurses leapt into action and before Alex could process what was happening, she was laid on a bed, nurses fussing around her as she was wheeled down corridors, her clothes being ripped open as they assessed the wound. Alex followed them, his eyes never leaving her as he willed for her to wake up and pull through. It was only when they came to one set of doors did Alex feel a hand on his chest, stopping him from going any further.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to wait here," the nurse said.

"But she…I need…" Alex was unsure of what he was trying to say as the woman nodded sternly.

"She's in the best place now," she promised him. "Are you her husband?"

Alex shook his head. "Her partner," he said, the words sounding so natural to him. "Please…she…I need her…I need her to be alright…"

"We'll do our best for her," the woman said and left Alex alone in the waiting area.

Alex moved to stand near the wall, his fist slamming against the wall as he bowed his head, his eyes closing. He needed her to be alright. He needed her to pull through. He had so much that he wanted to tell her. He had so much that he wanted to say. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to show her a normal life. He wanted to do normal things with her. If that was going to be snatched away from both of them then Alex swore he would have his revenge on Bagwell sooner rather than later. Either way, he vowed that Bagwell would pay for what he had done to Clara and Alex knew about getting revenge.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think!


	40. Chapter 40

A part of him was wondering if he had been too hasty in what he had said to Clara. As he sat in the tiny interview room, his mind went back to her. He didn't know if she was alive. He didn't know if she was dead. He knew nothing. All he knew what that as soon as he had entered the hospital, he had let himself get caught. The two FBI agents had noticed him as soon as he had begun pacing around the waiting room. He had drawn attention to himself and he knew that was the wrong move.

He knew that he was going to be caught. The FBI had eyes on the lookout for them everywhere. All it had taken was one cop to notice Alex, recognise his face from some poster and then call the FBI. Alex could have run away. He could have left the hospital as soon as he had noticed that the cop had noticed him, but he couldn't go. He wanted to stay there in case he heard anything about Clara. He had let her down too many times before and he wasn't going to do it again.

But now, as he sat in the small interview room, he wished that there had been some news. He had begged the FBI agents to tell him if she was alive, but they said they didn't know and wouldn't find out until he told them the truth. The only problem was that Alex was telling them the truth. He was telling them everything, but they didn't believe him. He had remained seated in the room, his hands cuffed and his fingers drumming on the surface of the table.

Why did he tell Clara that he loved her? Did he do it out of pity? Did he do it because he truly meant it? Alex didn't entirely know and he didn't want to think into it too deeply. He suspected he was being truthful. People often spoke the truth when they were in situations of life and death…didn't they? Of course, he also knew that you told people who were in life and death situations words that they wanted to hear.

His feelings for Clara were genuine. He knew that after everything they had been through. But then he thought about Pam. He loved Pam and he knew that he loved Pam. He would do anything for her. He would do anything to keep her safe and protect her. The only issue was, he would do that for Clara too. He knew it and he knew that he was being honest with himself. Was it possible to love two people at the same time? Was he being truthful? Alex didn't know and he suspected none of it would matter if she didn't pull through.

He only wondered what Michael and Lincoln were doing. Had they found Scylla? Was there a way for this madness to end? Alex could only wish that to be the case.

…

She knew that she had let her down. She knew that she had disappointed her. She knew that she had done everything wrong. She wanted to make it right, but she didn't know how to. She had been shocked when she had received the phone call from the hospital, wondering why they had contacted her. It turned out it was quite simple why they had done it. She was her only relative. She was the only one, except for her uncle, who was still alive.

Bowing her head as she sat by the bed, she clasped her hands together, her fingers lacing together. The soft beeping of the machine was the only noise in the room. There was nothing else and the silence was surprisingly calming. Moving a hand towards her, she let her hand engulf her arm as she leant closer to her.

"Don't give up on me," she whispered in a soft voice. "Please…I know that I messed up, Clara. I know that I messed up, but I didn't know what he was like. I didn't know what he had done to you…your parents…I never knew…"

She felt tears form in her eyes and she moved her free hand to the corner of them, wiping the moisture away before it could ruin her mascara. She took a moment before squeezing on Clara's arm, holding it tightly. It was another minute before she moved to her feet and looked to the TV through the glass of the room that she could see in the corridor.

Noticing the familiar face of her father on the TV, she squinted and managed to read the headline before nodding her head. He was being led into the back of a cop car, his head being forced down and a small smile formed on her lips. He had been found out. Everything was out in the open now and it was almost a feeling of relief. She wondered if they would come for her, but she didn't dwell on it. Instead she thought about Scylla being gone. Was it gone? She assumed the FBI must have gotten hold of it for her father to be arrested.

Shaking her head slowly, she turned around and moved back to the chair she had been sat on. She leaned over to take hold of Clara's hand again.

"I think that it is all over," she whispered to her. "Come on, Clara, I think it is over."

…

Alex didn't know how Michael had done it, but he had done it. He had been freed from the FBI room and given another chance at a life. He had been given immunity for everything that had happened. He had been given a second chance and he didn't know how to process that as he caught a lift to the hospital. Michael, Lincoln and Sara had joined him, wandering into the hospital and towards the ward where Clara was.

Looking into the room through the glass in the corridor, Alex saw her laid in the bed, tubes sticking out of her mouth and wires connected to her wrist. By her bedside sat a woman in the chair, holding onto her hand tightly. She had her head bowed as Alex walked into the room and she turned around. Michael, Lincoln and Sara remained in the corridor.

"Lisa," Alex said, recognising her.

Her cheeks were red and puffy while tears ran down her eyes. She moved to her feet and turned to look at him, but he held his hand up to her.

"Don't," she urged from him. "Sit down…it's fine…"

"Why would you let me be here?" she wondered from him. "After everything…you…shouldn't want me here."

"She doesn't hate you," Alex said with a shake of his head, moving closer to the bed and looking down to Clara as Lisa resumed holding her hand. "She was angry with you for what you did, but she doesn't hate you. She knows that you didn't know what he was like, not really."

"She has every right to be angry with me," Lisa said, sniffing loudly as Alex perched on the end of the bed on the other side, his hand going to Clara's free one. "I am her cousin. I should have done more for her after everything that happened. I should have done so much more and now…now she's here…"

"She is here because of your father, not because of you," Alex said, unsure why he was being so calm. How was he being so calm? That was the main question. "She…I do not condone you being a part of all of this, but not for one moment do I think that you were the main instigator."

"Thank you," she managed to whimper out. "I…well…I had images of you telling me to leave."

"No," Alex said with a shake of his head. "Anyway, have the doctors said anything?"

"Just…she…she lost a lot of blood…" Lisa said, clearly struggling to talk. "They don't know if they can wake her up…there was internal damage…she…I don't know…I just don't know."

"But in time, she will heal, right?" Alex demanded to know.

"I don't know," was all that Lisa could say and Alex shook his head.

He moved to his feet, squeezing Clara's hand before resting it on the bed. He moved off from the room and into the corridor in time to see a doctor walking down the corridor. Waving his hand in the woman's direction, he gained her attention.

"I…I need to know what is happening," Alex said with haste to her, pointing to Clara's room. "I just got here and I don't know what is happening with her."

"Ms Reynolds," the woman nodded her head and looked into the room. "She is currently on life support. She's lost a lot of blood and was in surgery for a long time. She…I…are you her husband?"

"No, her partner," Alex said, feeling the presence of Michael, Lincoln and Sara behind him. "I just need to know if she is going to be alright. She is going to wake up, isn't she? She needs to wake up because I need her to come home…I need to take her home…"

The doctor looked at him and Alex almost knew what she was going to tell him. Moving his hands to his hair, he tugged on lumps of it, spinning on his heel before he looked through the glass and to Clara. Sara looked to the doctor and spoke to her in a hushed tone.

"She was shot," Sara said to the woman. "I'm a doctor and I understand…but…she…I need her to be fine. I just need you to tell me."

The doctor gave Sara a knowing look. Sara knew how it felt to do her job. She hated it. She detested it. After a moment she nodded her head.

"She is in a critical condition," the woman said. "She is not breathing on her own. At the moment, that machine is the only thing keeping her alive. We do not know if that will change. We cannot predict what might happen, but…but the damage internally was extensive. Ms Reynolds…I think…I think the best thing that you can do for her right now, is just to be with her."

It was after she had said that when Alex banged his fist against the wall next to the glass, his forehead coming to rest on the surface as he closed his eyes. Lincoln moved a hand to his shoulder, holding onto it tightly as Alex spun around and looked to the doctor, shaking his head.

"There has to be something you can do," he snapped at her, his voice harsh. "You have to be able to do something!"

"Alex, they have done everything they can," Michael was the one to speak. "She is in the best place now."

"No," Alex said with a shake of his head. "She shouldn't even be here!"

Pointing into her room, Alex continued to yell, his voice shaking and sweat forming on his forehead.

"She should not be here. She is innocent…she never did anything wrong…yet…she has had nothing but bad things happen to her…and she didn't deserve it. She never deserved any of this. She is the only good thing in all of this mess. She needs to get better. She needs to pull through."

"Alex," Lincoln said, grabbing his shoulder and stopping him from losing control any further.

Alex shook his head as the doctor nodded.

"I'm sorry," was all that she could offer him. "I'm truly sorry."

Alex said nothing further as the doctor nodded her head at them and walked off. The four of them remained in the corridor, peering into the room where Lisa was still sat.

"I'm going to kill Bagwell," Alex seethed.

"He's in custody," Lincoln said. "He is going to rot in jail for the rest of his days. Clara is the one who needs you right now, Alex. She is the one who needs you to be with her. Go back in there…just go and be with her and leave Bagwell to rot."

Alex wasn't appeased, but he knew that it made sense. He walked into the room and sat back on the end of the bed. Michael, Sara and Lincoln filed in after him and took the seats in the corner of the room. Lincoln remained stood up, as there were only two seats, their eyes on Clara as the room remained silent. They all vowed to stay there for as long as they had to, knowing full well that they couldn't leave her.

As Alex kept his lips on the back of Clara's hand, he closed his eyes while he bowed his head.

"Come on, Clara," he whispered against her skin. "I need you."

She didn't respond. Instead she remained stoic on the bed and Alex wondered about the last time she had spoken to him. He didn't know if he could handle that being the last time. He closed his eyes again and felt a tear run down his cheek, knowing that he needed her more than he cared to admit.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think!


	41. Chapter 41

Alex didn't move from Clara's bedside for days. He spent his time with her, holding her hand as people came and went. He had seen Sara, Michael and Lincoln come and go. Lisa had sat at the other side of her bed, her other hand holding onto her cousin's hand as Clara continued breathing with the aid of the machine. Her eyes hadn't opened once. Her chest was steady as it moved. Everything about her looked peaceful. Alex suspected that was one way to think of her. She looked peaceful.

"Bagwell is back in Fox River," Michael had whispered to Alex one evening as they came back.

He sat down in the vacant chair next to Alex. Turning his head to look to Michael, Alex nodded once.

"How long for?" he wondered in a small voice.

"A long time," Michael said. "I don't think he will be seeing the light of day for many years."

"He'll never see it," Alex whispered, "if I have my way."

Michael inhaled a sharp breath. "It's best not to think like that," he said to him. "She needs you more than Bagwell does. You know that, Alex."

"And if she doesn't wake up?" Alex responded. "If she doesn't wake up then what do I have? Pam has moved on. Pam doesn't want me…Clara…she wanted me."

"And do you want her?" Sara was the one to wonder as she loitered at the back of the room.

After a moment she stepped forwards and sat down in the seat next to Michael's seat. She leant forwards slightly, her hands clasped together as she looked to Alex. He had moved his gaze back to Clara, his hands holding one of hers as his thumb roamed over her knuckles, almost as though he was trying to soothe her. He bowed his head for a moment and nodded.

"I think I have wanted her for longer than I care to admit," Alex responded, his voice full of honesty as he spoke to Sara. "She's been with me through everything. She has stood by me. She never abandoned me and I would…if the roles were reversed I would do the same. I would not abandon her. I could never abandon her…not then…and not now…"

Sara nodded her head softly. "I know," she said to him. "And I am sorry, Alex. I am so sorry for what happened."

Alex shrugged. "It's not your fault."

"But it is," Sara said, her hands clasping over her mouth as Michael moved a hand to her back and Alex turned to look at her. "She was shot because she protected me. She protected me from Bagwell and she is here because of me. I should never have let her get in the middle, but she knew…she was the only one who knew…"

"Knew what?" Alex asked.

Michael took hold of Sara's hand, gripping it tightly in his as he tried to reassure her that everything would be alright. She remained silent for a second, sniffing loudly and wiping her eyes with the back of her free hand. Turning to look to Alex, she shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm pregnant," she informed him. "Clara knew and she was shot protecting me from Bagwell."

Alex blinked profusely. "Congratulations, I guess," he mumbled.

"You don't need to-"

"-No," Alex interrupted Sara. "A baby is a big thing, Sara. I am…I mean…both of you will make great parents. It…Clara…she would not blame you for any of this. She would blame Bagwell and her uncle. Those are the people who made sure she ended up in here, not you. Believe me, once Clara decides to do something then she does it wholeheartedly. She would never have let Bagwell near you."

"I know," Sara nodded her head. "Still doesn't make it any easier though, does it?"

"Never does," Alex responded.

…

Doctors and nurses came and went for days. Alex asked them if there were any changes in her, but each one of them had simply shaken their heads. Alex had wanted to yell at them and demand to know if there was anything more that they could do. But then a miracle happened and Alex didn't know how to react. He had been in the room by himself after Lisa had said she needed to go and change when he felt something.

He had kept his hand holding onto hers, refusing to let go. But then he had felt something squeeze his fingers. Looking down at the contact, he wondered if he had been imagining it as he focused on the sight before him. It was then when he saw it clearly. Her fingers gripped onto his and Alex let his lips quirk upwards before leaning over to press the button to call the nurse.

"Clara," Alex said her name softly. "Clara, if you can hear me, just squeeze my hand."

She didn't do anything for a moment, but then Alex felt the grip on his hand once more. A nurse came rushing into the room at the same time and Alex looked to her, relief pouring through his veins.

"She squeezed my hand a few times," Alex said to the woman as she went to the other side of the bed and looked to the machines. "She squeezed my hand. That has to be a good sign, right?"

"Possibly."

"Possibly?" Alex echoed. "What do you mean possibly? She's responsive. She's still alive."

"Mr. Mahone," the woman sighed, having gotten used to seeing Alex in that room. "It is a sign, but it does not necessarily mean that she will wake up or be able to breathe on her own. There is a long way to go before we reach that point."

Alex shook his head. "You don't know Clara. She will wake up. She's strong enough."

…

Alex's faith was rewarded the following day. He had almost broken down in tears when he saw her eyes flutter open. She had almost gagged at the tube in her mouth as she panicked, but Alex had been quick on the mark. Moving with haste, he took hold of her cheek in his grip, soothingly stroking along her cheekbone as he looked her in the eye and took hold of her hand as she tried to reach for the tube.

"Clara, you can't pull it out," he informed her in a soft voice.

She seemed to understand what he was saying as he turned his gaze to Lisa. "Get a nurse," he urged form her.

She nodded and ran from the room, shouting for a nurse. A moment later one entered the room as Alex continued trying to soothe Clara, keeping her calm as he kept hold of her. He only reluctantly stepped back when a nurse came into the room followed by a doctor. It was another ten minutes before Alex heard a sharp breath come from her on her own. He placed his hands over his mouth and turned around, looking to the doorway to see Sara, Michael and Lincoln stood there, watching from the hallway. He nodded his head to them and Sara wrapped her arms around Michael before Alex looked back to Clara.

"You've had a lucky escape, Ms. Reynolds," the nurse informed Clara.

"I don't feel all too lucky," Clara managed to speak in a raspy voice.

"We need you to stay rested and we will be back soon to perform more tests," the doctor informed her. "In the meantime, no movement and not too much talking. Your throat will be quite raw."

"Got it," Clara whispered.

It was only when the nurse moved did she see Alex stood in the corner. He was dressed in a black shirt and jeans, his hair mussed up on top of his head. But there was someone next to him in a pencil skirt and blue shirt. Lisa was stood next to him. She had tears pouring down her face as Clara arched a brow and both of them moved towards her.

"Clara, I am so sorry," Lisa was the one to speak, rushing to her bedside and sitting down in the chair. "I never knew how deep this was. I never knew what he was doing or what he did. Please…he…he lied to me and he kept me in the dark. If I had known everything then I would have helped you."

Clara looked to her cousin and let out a shaky breath. She wanted to speak, but she found the pain in her throat too much to say the words she wanted. She had so much she wanted to say, but she knew that she couldn't speak them. Instead she moved her hand outwards and Lisa grabbed hold of it, openly crying in relief.

"It's alright," Clara managed to tell her.

Alex moved to stand behind Lisa, hands moving into his jeans pocket as he let the two cousins have their moment. Lisa stood after a second and bent down to kiss Clara on the top of her head.

"I'll let you two have a minute," she said in a whisper.

Clara watched on Lisa left the room and Alex slowly moved to take the vacant seat. He perched on the edge of it, wondering what he should say to Clara before he saw her smile softly.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Hey yourself," Alex said to her. "You gave us all quite a scare."

"All of you?" she enquired.

Alex looked to the window and she followed his gaze, seeing the three of them stood there. She managed to lift her hand and wave to them as they smiled back and Alex chuckled in a gentle tone. He looked back to her and moved his hand to brush her hair from her face. He said nothing for a moment; instead he focused on watching her with intrigue, struggling to believe that she was alive and staring back at him.

"We managed to escape, Clara," Alex said to her, leaning forwards. "The Company is gone. Scylla is the hands of the UN and they exonerated us. They let us all go…we're free, Clara…we're all free…"

Clara nodded once. "Sounds crazy."

"Most things that have happened recently are crazy," Alex informed her in a hushed voice. "But you just need to focus on getting better, alright? Because I still have to take you on that date, don't I?"

Clara smiled at hearing him and took his hand from her cheek, kissing the back of it softly. She wondered if this was truly it. What more could happen?

…

Alex had checked himself into a nice hotel for when Clara was discharged from hospital. She had been in that place for over a month and Alex had felt some kind of relief when he heard that she was being discharged. She was in no position to fly back to Chicago, but she was allowed to return somewhere to rest for a few weeks. Alex had found himself a nice hotel in Miami. It was large and overlooked the beach. There was room service and there was a gym. It was modern and sleek.

Alex had insisted on paying for it, but Lisa had taken care of the bill, telling the hotel to charge whatever they wanted to her card. She had visited Clara every day and slowly the two of them were rebuilding their broken relationship. Alex was happy for Clara. He knew she needed some kind of family.

He had felt some kind of relief in helping Clara into the hotel, happy to spend the night in a bed and not the hospital chair. He opened the door and watched her walk in, her hand holding onto her stomach as she took soft and steady steps. Alex closed and locked the door before his arm took her waist and he helped her walk towards the sofa.

"No, no, no," Clara said as she noted him trying to direct her towards the sofa.

"You need to rest, Clara," he urged from her.

"No," she said with a shake of her head. "I want to sit on the balcony. I need fresh air, Alex. I'm tired of being stuck inside."

Alex agreed with her, opening the patio door and helping her lower herself into one of the comfortable outdoor chairs. She winced in pain for a moment before Alex walked to go and get her some water. He placed it down on the table next to her and then took to sitting in the chair next to hers, looking over the view.

"I never thought I'd be here," Clara said and Alex chuckled.

"Free? Not looking over your shoulder? Not worrying?"

"All the above," Clara whispered. "All I could do with now is a cold glass of white wine."

"I don't think you can have that with the medication you're on," he said to her. "But one day soon."

"I hope so," Clara said, tilting her head back and letting the sun shine over her, warming her face up as the gentle sea breeze blew her hair back. "So what now?"

Alex looked to her as she continued to look to the sea. "What do you want now?" he asked from her.

"I want…" she trailed off for a moment. "I want a holiday. I want to go somewhere warm and forget about the real world for a few weeks."

"I see," Alex said to her.

She turned to look to him. "But I want you to come with me," she said, honesty echoing in her voice. "I want us to go somewhere and just be for a while. I want to know the real Alex…without constant stress…worry…just be us for a while and see if we can…if we can make it work."

Alex said nothing for a moment at her confession.

"That's if you want to," she added on.

Alex chuckled and leant forwards. "I never really knew what I would want, Clara," he admitted to her. "I always thought that I would want Pam. I always had an end game of this all being over and me going back to Pam, but…sitting in that hospital room…I realised that wasn't what I wanted. What I wanted was for you to come back to me and I got that because here you are."

He let out a deep breath.

"Pam is my past," Alex said. "I have history with her and I will always feel things for her. I will always love her fondly…but you…I think that you could be my future, Clara. I love Pam, but I am in love with you…everything about you…and I want you to understand that."

"I do," Clara promised him, "but if you want Pam then I think you should go after her still-"

"-No," Alex interrupted her. "And I am not saying this because I cannot have her or because she might have moved on. I am saying this because I want you and I haven't got what I wanted in a long time, so I am hoping you will let me…let me be with you, Clara."

Nodding her head, Clara seemed to feel tears build up in her eyes. "I want you too."

"Then that's good enough for me," Alex said and moved from his seat and towards her.

He bent down slowly, his hands holding onto her cheeks gently as he kissed her tenderly, knowing he had to be gentle with her. He pulled back after a second, his forehead against hers as they both smiled heartedly for the first time in a while. Alex pushed his fingers through her hair and looked her in the eye.

"I don't deserve you," he said to her.

She shrugged her shoulders playfully. "But you have me," she promised him.

…

A/N: Do let me know what you think. One chapter to go!


	42. Chapter 42

_Four Years Later_

Clara snorted as they sat in the departure lounge of Washington Dulles airport. She held the newspaper in her fingertips as she sat in one of the leather chairs, her gaze focused on it before she looked to Alex by her side. His glasses were perched on the end of his nose as he held a book in his fingertips. He turned his gaze to the side as soon as he heard her make a noise. He arched his brows as she turned to look to him.

"Kellerman is running as a Congressman for a second term," she said to him. "And Krantz has an execution date set."

"How did that crooked son of a bitch manage to get into politics?" Alex wondered from her.

"I think you hit the nail on the head with the word crooked linked to politics," Clara said and Alex took his turn to chuckle at hearing her. He nodded his head. "Lisa wanted me to come with her to the execution."

"And do you want to go?" Alex asked back from her.

She shook her head at him. "No," she admitted in a soft voice. "But I want to be there for Lisa. We're close. You know that as well as I do."

"Which is weird considering where we were four years ago."

"She is the only family I have."

"That's not entirely true," Alex responded, picking up her hand and holding it in his, the sight of the ring catching his eye as Clara smiled softly and felt him kiss the back of her hand.

"We're only engaged," she reminded him.

"Still pretty close to being married," Alex said. "Besides, I thought that you were keen on picking a date for the wedding."

"I am," Clara said. "I am terribly keen, but I want it to be right. I want it to be perfect."

"Hey, so long we end up married, I'd say that's pretty perfect."

Clara rolled her eyes. "Ugh, that sounds so cheesy."

"But you love it…and me…" Alex continued and Clara leant over to kiss him softly.

"Guess that's true."

…

Clara never entirely understood how everything could have changed so drastically in four years. They had all agreed to meet up once more to remember the man who had brought them all together. Sitting on a bench on the beach, Clara leant back, her side pressing against Alex's front as he straddled the bench, his arms wrapped around her as he held her to him. She closed her eyes as she felt him kiss the top of her head softly.

"They should be here soon," Alex said to her.

"No rush," Clara said. "It's nice being on a beach."

Alex chuckled. "Remember when we were on that beach in California?"

"Yeah, but back then we were complaining about Scylla and The Company. Now we're on a beach and no one wants to kill us."

"Odd feeling," Alex mumbled, moving to rest his cheek on the top of her head. "So, what do you think? We stay here for a week and then what?"

"Then we head back to DC because I have a job there," Clara said. "Although, after we finish a week's training we have nothing going on so we could maybe take sometime away then. When is your interview to join the bureau?"

"Three week's time," Alex said.

"You'll be fine," she promised him in a whisper. "They'd be lucky to have you back."

"I don't think they see it that way."

"Well, they should," Clara said and Alex chuckled.

"You're probably biased," he said to her.

"Maybe," she agreed with him before they heard voices approaching.

Uncurling from Alex's grip, Clara moved to her feet and saw Sucre and Lincoln approaching them. Clara smiled widely before embracing each of them while Alex offered a handshake alongside an embrace. Clara felt her long white dress float against her legs as Alex stood besides her and placed a hand on the small of her back.

"I heard you're lecturing in DC?" Lincoln said to her.

"You heard correctly," Clara said. "We moved out there last year."

"And that is a big rock," Sucre said as Clara held her hand up and Lincoln arched his brows.

"You two are engaged?" he checked.

"He proposed just after Christmas," Clara said as Alex saw her look to the ring, wondering if she would keep on smiling whenever she saw the blue stone sat proudly on the silver band. He certainly hoped so. "We're setting a date for sometime at the end of the year. You're all invited, of course."

"I'd expect nothing less," Lincoln joked with them as Clara continued to smile, unable to stop herself as she saw Sara approaching in the distance.

The little boy in front of her ran ahead, embracing Lincoln tightly as Sara hugged Sucre. Moving to bend down, Clara looked to the little boy so she was the same height as he was once Lincoln had put him back down.

"And someone has certainly grown," Clara commented as she saw Michael Jr. look to her, the smile on his face growing wide as he rushed to her side and flung his arms around her neck. She embraced him tightly too. "And how are you doing, sweetie?"

"Really good," the little boy said. "I got a tattoo."

"You did?" Clara asked, feigning surprise as he lifted his sleeve to show her. "You must have been a very brave boy."

"Oh, he was," Sara said as Clara ruffled his hair and then stood up and embraced Sara. "How are you doing?"

"Keeping busy," Clara said with a smile. "What about you?"

"The same," Sara said, "although I suspect it's not just work keeping you busy."

"Well, you know, wedding planning isn't easy," Clara joked and Sara chuckled with a shrug.

"Congratulations, by the way," she said, looking between Clara and Alex. "I'm happy for both of you. Michael would have been happy too."

"Sorry," Clara said. "I shouldn't have mentioned it…"

"No," Sara said with a firm shake of her head. "I brought it up and, besides, Michael wouldn't want us to hide things. He never was a fan of secrets."

"And I can see why now," Alex said.

"Come on…I've got food back at home for us this evening. You can tell me all about how Alex romantically got down on one knee," Clara said with a teasing smile while Alex scoffed, his hand finding Clara's as they began to make their way towards the headstones.

"I'd prepare for disappointment in that case," Alex warned her as Clara nudged him in the stomach.

They began moving towards the headstones, all of them standing still and looking to the stone which held Michael Scofiled's name. Closing her eyes for a moment, Clara remembered exactly when she had met Michael for the first time. He had surprised her by appearing at her house and warning her to stay away from Alex. How ironic that she was now marrying him. But times had changed, she suspected, and Michael had been snatched from Sara so cruelly after they had only just found each other again.

Clara held tighter onto Alex's hand at that piece of information, closing her eyes tightly before looking to him and moving to peck him on the cheek. Alex smiled down to her as the two of them walked past Michael's grave, touching it as they left Sucre, Sara, Michael Jr. and Lincoln to have a moment alone.

"He never had a chance to see his son grow," Clara said in a whisper. "It's cruel, Alex."

"Life is cruel," Alex responded to her. "We both know that."

"But we are still here," she said to him. "We are still here and we should be grateful for that."

"I am," Alex promised her. "Every day I know how lucky I am not to be in some six foot cell for the rest of my life."

"You're not that man anymore, Alex," Clara said as they continued to wander down the beach, watching the tide roll in. "We have Michael to thank for a lot. He helped us to turn things around. He helped to save us."

"I know," Alex said with a nod of his head. "And I think about him every day."

"Same," Clara said.

"Do you think he would have thought that this was weird?" Clara asked. "I mean, sometimes I think it is weird. Sometimes I don't understand how we ended up together. I mean…it's not exactly the most romantic of stories."

"Yeah, but I never believed in fairy tales," Alex said. "Besides, we made it. That's all that matters."

"I haven't gotten you down the aisle yet," Clara said in a teasing voice as Alex wrapped his arm around her waist.

"You wouldn't be able to keep me away," Alex said.

"Good to know," Clara said. "I mean, there have been a few times when I thought this might have not worked. Your snoring is insufferable sometimes."

"Yeah, and you still put too much sugar in your coffee," Alex said. "Seems were both pretty imperfect."

"I don't think you're supposed to call your fiancée imperfect, Alex," Clara said to him and Alex laughed, grabbing hold of her by the waist as he began to push her closer towards where the tide was rolling in. She laughed as she tried to push against him, but Alex was strong, pushing her closer towards the water. "Alex, stop it!"

"Hey, you began taunting me, you get what you deserve," he said to her as he saw the tide splash around her legs, causing her long dress to cling to her body as he left her there and ran to dry land.

He continued to laugh as he saw another wave move forwards, this one bigger than the other as it splashed all up her back, causing her to shriek from the sudden feeling of the cold. Alex covered his hands over his mouth at the sight of her, now completely drenched. He stepped back as he saw her arch a brow, an annoyed glance in her eyes, but a smile on her face as she looked to him.

"I didn't know the second wave would be bigger," he held his hands up in defence.

But it wasn't enough. Clara ran towards Alex as he tried to wrestle her away, his hands catching her wrists as she tried to drag him back to the sea. He continued to laugh as he managed to wrestle her from the floor, picking her up until he had her trapped in his arms, knocking her knees from under her as he felt his shirt become damp with thanks to her wet dress. She draped an arm over his shoulders as he walked them down the beach, still laughing gently as they went.

"You know I will get revenge," she said to him.

"Oh, I doubt it," he responded. "Although I look forward to seeing you try."

"I can imagine," she said in a mutter. "Good job I love you so that it won't be that painful."

"Good job indeed," Alex said with a soft smile.

She moved to kiss him chastely on the lips as both of them smiled into the motion, wondering exactly what the future would bring for them. He kept on kissing her gently before letting her down, feeling her pressed against his side as he kept hold of her and they looked out over the ocean, content just in each other's company, like they had been for the past four years.

...

A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who has been reading for the past year. I hope you'll let me know what you think one final time!


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